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Full text of "The seven seas"

THE SEVEN SEAS 



THE SEVEN SEAS 

BY RUDYARD KIPLING 




METHUEN AND CO. 

36 ESSEX STREET, W.C. 

LONDON 

189(i 



DEDICATION 

TO THE CITY OF BOMBAY 

The Cities are full of piide, 
Challenging each to each — - 

This from her mountain-side. 
That from her biirthened beach. 

They count their ships full tale — 
Their corn and oil and wine, 

Derrick and loom and hale, 

And rampart's gunfecked line ,* 

City by City they hail : 

' Hast aught to match with mine ? ' 

And the men that breed from them 
They traffic up and down, 

But cling to their cities' licm 

As a child to the mother's gotvn. 



vi THE SE^'EX SEAS 

When they talk 7vith the stranger bands, 
Dazed and newly alone ; 

When they walk in the stranger lands, 
By roaring streets unknown ; 

Blessing her where she stands 
For strength above their own. 

(On high to hold her fame 
That stands all fame beyond, 

By oath to back the same, 
Most faithfiil-foolish-fond ; 

Making her mere-breathed name 
Their bond upon their bond.) 

So thank I God my birth 

Fell not in isles aside — 
Waste headlands of the eaHli, 

Or warring tribes untned — 
But that she lent me worth 

And gave me right to pride. 

Surely in toil or fray 

Under an alien sky, 
Comfort it is to say : 

' Of no mean city am I ! ' 



DEDICATION 

(Neither hy service nor fee 

Come I to mine estate — 
Mother of Cities to me, 

For I was horn in her gate, 
Between the palms and the sea, 

Where the world-end steamers wait.) 

Now for this debt I owe, 
And for herfar-horne cheei 

Must I make haste and go 
With tribute to her pier. 

And she shall touch and remit 

After the use of kings 
{Orderly, ancient, fit) 

My deep-sea phinderings. 
And purchase in all lands. 

And this we do for a sign 

Her power is over mine. 
And mine I hold at her hands! 



Vll 



CONTENTS 



DEDICATION 

The Cities are full of pride, 



The Seven Scui 

A SONG OF THE ENGLISH 

Fair is our lot — O goodly is our heritage 1 . i 

The Coast wisk Lights 

Our brows are bound with spindrift and the 

weed is on our knees, .... 3 



The Soxg of the Dead 
ear now the Song of 1 
by the torn berg-edges. 



Hear now the Song of the Dead — in the North 



The Deep-Sea Cables 

The wrecks dissolve above us ; their dust 
drops down from afar, .... 



X THE SEVEN SEAS 

PAGE 

Thk Song of the Sons 

One from the ends of the earth — gifts at an 

open floor — . . . . . . lo 

The Song of the Cities 

Royal and Dower-royal^ I the Queen, . . ii 

England s Answer 

Truly ye come of The Blood ; slower to bless 

than to ban, . . . . . . 15 

THE FIRST CHANTEY 

Mine was the woman to me, darkling I found 

her, . . . . . . . . 18 

THE LAST CHANTEY 

Thus said The Lord in the Vault above the 

Cherubim, . . . . . . 21 

THE MERCHANTMEN 

King Solomon drew merchantmen, . . 26 

M 'ANDREWS' HYMN 

Lord, Thou hast made this world below the 

shadow of a di'eam, . . . . . 31 

THE MIRACLES 

I sent a message to my dear, ... 47 



CONTENTS xi 

TAGE 

THE NATIVE-BORN 

We 've drunk to the Queen — God bless her ! . 49 

THE KING 

'Farewell, Romance ! ' the Cave-men said, . 55 

THE RHYME OF THE THREE SEALERS 

Away by the lauds of the Japanee, . . 58 

THE DERELICT 

I was the staunchest of our fleet, • • • 7o 

THE ANSWER 

A Rose, in tatters on the garden path, . . 76 

THE SONG OF THE BANJO 

You couldn't pack a Broadwood half a mile, . 78 

THE LINER SHE 'S A LADY 

The Liner she 's a lady, an' she never looks 

nor 'eeds, . 85 

MULHOLLAND'S CONTRACT 

The fear was on the cattle, for the gale was on 

the sea, . 88 



xii THE SEVEN SEAS 

PAGE 

ANCHOR SONG 

Heh ! Walk her round. Heave, ah heave her 

short again !...... 92 

THE LOST LEGION 

There's a Legion that never was 'listed, . 96 

THE SEA-WIFE 

There dwells a wife by the Northern Gate, . 100 

HYMN BEFORE ACTION 

The earth is full of anger, . . . .103 

TO THE TRUE ROMANCE 

Thy face is far from this our war, . . .106 

THE FLOWERS 

Buy my English posies ! . . .111 

THE LAST RHYME OF TRUE THOMAS 

The King has called for priest and cup, . 115 

IN THE NEOLITHIC AGE 

In the Neolithic Age savage warfare did 1 

wage, 124 



CONTENTS xiii 

PAGE 

THE STORY OF UNG 

Once, on a glittering ice-field, ages and ages 

ago, . . . . . . . . J^S 

THE THREE-DECKER 

Full thirty foot she towei*ed from waterline to 

i-ail. 134 

AN AMERICAN 

If the Led Striker call it a strike, . . • ij9 

THE MARY GLOSTER 

I 've paid for your sickest fancies ; I ve 

humoured your crackedest whim, 142 

SESTINA OF THE TRAMP-ROYAL 

Speakin' in general, I 'ave tried 'em all, . 15S 



Barrack-Room Ballads- 

'BACK TO THE ARMY AGAIN' 

I'm 'ere in a ticky ulster an' a broken hilly- 
cock 'at, . . . . . .163 

' BIRDS OF PREY ' MARCH 

March ! The mud is cakin' good about our 
trousies, . . . . . . . 168 



xiv THE SEVEN SEAS 

PAGE 

' SOLDIER AN' SAILOR TOO ' 

As I was spittin' into the Ditch aboard o' the 

Crocodile, 171 

SAPPERS 

'\^Tien the Waters were dried an' the Earth 

did appear, 175 

THAT DAY 

It got beyond all orders an' it got beyond all 

'ope, 179 

'THE MEN THAT FOUGHT AT MINDEN' 

The men that fought at Minden, they was 

rookies in their time, . . . . .182 

CHOLERA CAMP 

We 've got the cholerer in camp — it 's worse 

than forty fights, . . . .186 

THE LADIES 

I 've taken my fun where I 've found it, . . 190 

BILL 'AWKINS 

' 'As anybody seen Bill 'Awkins ? ' . . . 194 

THE MOTHER-LODGE 

There was Rundle, Station Master, . . 196 



CONTENTS XV 

PAGE 

'FOLLOW ME 'OME' 

There was no one like 'im, 'Orse or Foot, . 200 

THE SERGEANT'S WEDDIN' 

'E was warned agin 'er, 203 

THE JACKET 

Through the Plagues of Egyp' we was chasin' 

Arabi, 206 

THE 'EATHEN 

The 'eathen in 'is blindness bows down to 

wood an' stone, . . .  • .210 

THE SHUT-EYE SENTRY 

Sez the Junior Orderly Sergeant, . . . 217 

'MARY, PITY WOMEN!' 

You call yourself a man, .... 222 

FOR TO ADMIRE 

The Injian Ocean sets an' smiles, . . ,225 

L'ENVOI 

When Earth's last picture is painted and the 
tubes are twisted and dried, . . .229 



THE SEVEN SEAS 



A SONG OF THE ENGLISH 

Fair is our lot — goodly is our heritage ! 

(Himible ye, my people, aiid he fearful in your mirth !) 

For the Lord our God Most High 

He hath made the deep as dry, 
He hath smote for us a j}ath?vay to the ends of all the 
Earth ! 

Yea, though 7ve sijined — a7id our rulers went from 

rishteous7i ess — 
Deep in all dishonour though we stained otir garments' 
hem. 
Oh he ye not dismayed, 
Though we stumbled and we strayed, 
We were led hy evil coutisellors — the Lord shall deal 
with them ! 



2 THE SEVEN SEAS 

Hold ye the Faith — the Faith our Fathers sealed us ; 
Whoiing not with visions — overwise and overstate. 

Except ye pay the Lord 

Single heart and single sword. 
Of yoxir children in their bondage shall He ask them 
treble-tale ! 

Keep ye the Law — be swift in all obedience — 

Clear the land of evil, drive the road and bridge the ford. 

Make ye sure to each his own 

That he reap where he hath sown ; 
By the peace among Our peoples let men know we serve 
the Lord ! 



Hear now a song — a song of broken interludes — 
A song of little cunning ; of a singer nothing worth. 

Through the 7iaked words and mean 

May ye see the truth betweeii 
As the singer kneiv and totiched it in the eyids of all the 
Earth ! 



A SONG OF THE ENGLISH 



THE COASTWISE LIGHTS 

Our brows are bound with spindrift and the weed 

is on our knees ; 
Our loins are battered 'neath us by the swinging, 

smoking seas. 
From reef and rock and skerry — over headland, 

ness, and voe —  
The Coastwise Lights of England watch the ships 

of England go ! 

Through the endless summer evenings, on the 

lineless, level floors ; 
Through the yelling Channel tempest when the 

siren hoots and roars — 
By day the dipping house-tiag and by night the 

I'ocket's trail — 
As the sheep that graze behind us so we know 

them where they hail. 

We bridge across the dark, and bid the helmsman 

have a care, 
The flash that wheeling inland wakes his sleeping 

wife to prayer ; 



4 THE SEVEN SEAS 

From our vexed eyries, head to gale, we bind in 

burning chains 
The lover from the sea-rim drawn — his love in 

English lanes. 

We greet the clippers wing-and-wing that race 

the Southern wool ; 
We warn the crawling cargo-tanks of Bremen, 

Leith, and Hull ; 
To each and all our equal lamp at peril of the sea — 
The white wall-sided warships or the whalers of 

Dundee ! 

Come up, come in from Eastward, from the guard- 
ports of the Mom ! 

Beat up,beat in from Southerly, Ogipsiesof the Horn ! 

Swift shuttles of an Empire's loom that weave us, 
niain to main. 

The Coastwise Lights of England give you welcome 
back again ! 

Go, get you gone up-Channel with the sea-crust on 

your plates ; 
Go, get you into London with the burden of your 

freights ! 



A SONG OF THE ENGLISH 5 

Haste, for they talk of Empire there, and say, if 

any seek, 
The Lights of England sent you and by silence 

shall ye speak ! 

THE SONG OF THE DEAD 

Hear notv the Song of ike Dead — m the North hy the 
torn berg-edges — 

They that look still to the Pole, asleep by their hide- 
stripped sledges. 

So7ig of the Dead in the South — in the sun hy their 
skeleton horses, 

Where the warrigal whimpers and bays through the dust 
of the sere river-courses. 

Song of the Dead in the East— in the heat-rotted jungle 

hollows, 
Where the dog-ape barks in the kloof— in the brake of 

the buffalo-wallows. 
Song of the Dead in the West — in the Barrens, the snow 

thai betrayed them, 
Where the wolverine tumbles their packs from the camp 

and the grave-mound they made them ; 
Hear now the Song of the Dead ! 



6 THE SEVEN SEAS 



We were dreamers, dreaming greatly, in the man- 
stifled town ; 

We yearned beyond the sky-line where the strange 
roads go down. 

Came the Whisper, came the Vision, came the 
Power with the Need, 

Till the Soul that is not man's soul Avas lent us to 
lead. 

As the deer breaks — as the steer breaks — from the 
herd where they graze, 

In the faith of little children we went on our ways. 

Then the wood failed — then the food failed — then 
the last water dried — 

In the faith of little children we lay down and died. 

On the sand-drift — on the veldt-side — in the fern- 
scrub we lay, 

That our sons might follow after by the bones on 
the way. 

Follow after — follow after ! We have watered the 
root. 

And the bud has come to blossom that ripens for 
fruit ! 



A SONG OF THE ENGLISH 7 

Follow after — we are waiting, by the trails that we 

lost. 
For the sounds of many footsteps, for the tread of a 

host. 
Follow after — follow after — for the harvest is sown : 
By the bones about the wayside ye shall come to 

your own ! 

When Drake ivent down to the Horn 
And England was crowned thereby, 

'Twixt seas unsailed and shores unhailed 
Our Lodge — our Lodge was bom 
(^And England was crowned thereby 1) 

Which never shall close aeain 

o 
By day nor yet by night, 

While man shall take his life to stake 

At risk oj" shoal or main 

{By day nor yet by nighf), 

But standeth even so 

As now we witness here, 
While men depart, of joyful heart, 

Adventure for to know 

{As now bear witness here /) 



8 THE SEVEN SEAS 



II 



We have fed our sea for a thousand years 

And she calls us, still unfed. 
Though there 's never a wave of all her waves 

But marks our English dead : 
We have strawed our best to the weed's unrest 

To the shark and the sheering gull. 
If blood be the price of admiralty. 

Lord God, we ha' paid in full ! 

There's never a flood goes shoreward now 

But lifts a keel we manned ; 
There 's never an ebb goes seaward now 

But drops our dead on the sand — 
But slinks our dead on the sands forlore, 

From the Ducies to the Swin. 
If blood be the price of admiralty. 
If blood be the price of admiralty. 

Lord God, we ha' paid it in ! 

We must feed our sea for a thousand years. 

For that is our doom and pride. 
As it was when they sailed with the Golden Hind, 
Or the wreck that struck last tide — 



A SONG OF THE ENGLISH 

Or the wreck that lies on the spouting reef 

Where the ghastly blue-lights flare. 
If blood be the price of admiralty. 
If blood be the price of admiralty, 
If blood be the price of admiralty. 
Lord God, Ave ha' bought it fair ! 



THE DEEP-SEA CABLES 

The wrecks dissolve above us ; their dust drops 

down from afar — 
Down to the dark, to the utter dark, where the 

blind white sea-snakes are. 
There is no sound, no echo of sound, in the deserts 

of the deep, 
Or the great grey level plains of ooze where the 

shell-burred cables creep. 

Here in the womb of the world — here on the tie- 
ribs of earth 
Words, and the words of men, flicker and flutter 
and beat — 
Warning, sorrow and gain, salutation and mirth — 
For a Power troubles the Still that has neither 
voice nor feet. 



10 THE SEVEN SEAS 

They have wakened the timeless Things ; they have 
killed their father Time ; 
Joining hands in the gloom, a league from the 
last of the sun. 
Hush ! Men talk to-day o'er the waste of the 
ultimate slime, 
And a new Word runs between : whispering, ' Let 
us be one ! ' 



THE SONG OF THE SONS 

One from the ends of the earth — gifts at an open 

door — 
Treason has much, but we. Mother, thy sons have 

more ! 
From the whine of a dying man, from the snarl of 

a wolf-pack freed. 
Turn, and the world is thine. Mother, be proud of 

thy seed ! 
Count, are we feeble or few ? Hear, is our speech 

so rude ? 
Look, are we poor in the land .'^ Judge, are we men 

of The Blood ? 



A SONG OF THE ENGLISH 11 

Those that have stayed at thy knees. Mother, go 

call them in — 
We that were bred overseas wait and would speak 

with our kin. 
Not in the dark do we fight — haggle and flout and 

gibe; 
Selling our love for a price, loaning our hearts for a 

bribe. 
Gifts have we only to-day — Love without promise 

or fee — 
Hear, for thy children speak, from the uppermost 

parts of the sea ! 



THE SONG OF THE CITIES 

BOMBAY 

Royal and Dower-royal, I the Queen 

Fronting thy richest sea with richer hands — 

A thousand mills roar through me where I 
glean 
All races from all lands. 



12 THE SEVEN SEAS 

CALCUTTA 

Me the Sea-captain loved^ the River built. 

Wealth sought and Kings adventured life to hold. 

Hail, England ! I am Asia — Power on silt. 
Death in my hands, but Gold ! 

MADRAS 

Clive kissed me on the mouth and eyes and brow. 

Wonderful kisses, so that I became 
Crowned above Queens- — a withered beldame now. 

Brooding on ancient fame. 

RANGOON 

Hail, Mother ! Do they call me rich in trade ? 

Little care I, but hear the shorn priest drone, 
And watch my silk-clad lovers, man by maid, 

Laugh 'neath my Shwe Dagon. 

SINGAPORE 

Hail, Mother ! East and West must seek my aid 
Ere the spent gear may dare the ports afar. 

The second doorway of the wide world's trade 
Is mine to loose or bar. 



A SONG OF THE ENGLISH 13 



HONG-KONG 



Hail, Mother ! Hold me fast ; my Praya sleeps 

Under innumerable keels to-day. 
Yet guard (and landward), or to-morrow sweeps 

Thy warships down the bay ! 

HALIFAX 

Into the mist my guardian prows put forth, 
Behind the mist my virgin ramparts lie. 

The Warden of the Honour of the North, 
Sleepless and veiled am I ! 

QUEBEC AND MONTREAL 

Peace is our portion. Yet a whisper rose. 
Foolish and causeless, half in jest, half hate. 

Now wake we and remember mighty blows. 
And, fearing no man, Avait ! 

VICTORIA 

From East to West the circling word has passed. 
Till West is East beside our land-locked blue ; 

Frcm East to West the tested chain holds fast, 
The well-forged link rings true ! 



14 THE SEVEN SEAS 

CAPETOWN 

Hail ! Snatched and bartered oft from hand to 
hand, 

I dream my dream, by rock and heath and pine. 
Of Empire to the northward. Ay^ one land 

From Lion's Head to Line ! 

MELBOURNE 

Greeting ! Nor fear nor favour won us place. 
Got between greed of gold and dread of drouth, 

Loud-voiced and reckless as the wild tide-race 
That whips our harbour-mouth ! 

SYDNEY 

Greeting ! My birth-stain have I turned to good ; 

Forcing strong wills perverse to steadfastness : 
The first flush of the tropics in my blood. 

And at my feet Success ! 

BRISBANE 

The northern stirp beneath the southern skies — 
I build a Nation for an Empire's need, 

Suffer a little, and my land shall rise. 
Queen over lands indeed ! 



A SONG OF THE ENGLISH 15 

HOBART 

Man's love first found me ; man's hate made me 
Hell ; 

For my babes' sake I cleansed those infamies. 
Earnest for leave to live and labour well 

God flung me peace and ease. 

AUCKLAND 

Last, loneliest, loveliest, exquisite, apart — 
On us, on us the unswerving season smiles, 

Who wonder 'mid our fern why men depart 
To seek the Happy Isles ! 



ENGLAND'S ANSWER 

Truly ye come of The Blood ; slower to bless than 

to ban ; 
Little used to lie down at the bidding of any man. 
Flesh of the flesh that I bred, bone of the bone 

that I bare ; 
Stark as your sons shall be — stern as your fathers 

were. 

B 



16 THE SEVEN SEAS 

Deeper than speech our love, stronger than life our 

tether. 
But we do not fall on the neck nor kiss when we 

come together. 
My arm is nothing weak, my strength is not gone by ; 
Sons, I have borne many sons,but my dugs are not dry. 
Look, I have made ye a place and opened wide the 

doors. 
That ye may talk together, your Barons and 

Councillors — 
Wards of the Outer March, Lords of the Lower Seas, 
Ay, talk to your grey mother that bore you on her 

knees ! — 
That ye may talk together, brother to brother's face — 
Thus for the good of your peoples — thus for the 

Pride of the Race. 
Also, we will make promise. So long as The 

Blood endures, 
I shall know that your good is mine : ye shall feel 

that my strength is yours : 
In the day of Armageddon, at the last great fight 

of all. 
That Our House stand together and the pillars do 

not fall. 



A SONG OF THE ENGLISH 17 

Di'aw now the threefold knot firm on the ninefold 

bands. 
And the Law that ye make shall be law after the 

rule of your lands. 
This for the waxen Heath, and that for the Wattle- 
bloom, 
This for the Maple-leaf, and that for the southern 

Broom. 
The Law that ye make shall be law and I do not 

press my will, 
Because ye are Sons of The Blood and call me 

Mother still. 
Now must ye speak to your kinsmen and they must 

speak to you, 
After the use of the English, in straight-flung words 

and few. 
Go to your work and be strong, halting not in your 

ways. 
Baulking the end half-won for an instant dole of 

praise. 
Stand to your work and be wise — certain of sword 

and pen. 
Who are neither children nor Gods, but men in a 

world of men ! 



THE FIRST CHANTEY 

Mine was the woman to me, darkling I found her ; 
Hahng her dumb from the camp, held her and 

bound her. 
Hot rose her tribe on our track ere I had proved 

her; 
Hearing her laugh in the gloom, greatly I loved 

her. 

Swift through the forest we ran ; none stood to 

guard us. 
Few were my people and far; then the flood 

barred us — 
Him we call Son of the Sea, sullen and swollen. 
Panting we waited the death, stealer and stolen. 

Yet eie they came to my lance laid for the 

slaughter. 
Lightly she leaped to a log lapped in the water ; 

18 



THE FIRST CHANTEY 19 

Holding on high and apart skins that arrayed her, 
Called she the God of the Wind that He should aid 
her. 

Life had the tree at that word (Praise we the 

Giver !) 
Otter-like left he the bank for the full river. 
Far fell their axes behind^ flashing and ringing. 
Wonder was on me and fear, yet she was singing ! 

Low lay the land we had left. Now the blue 

bound us, 
Even the Floor of the Gods level around us. 
Whisper there was not, nor word, shadow nor 

showing. 
Till the light stirred on the deep, glowing and 



Then did He leap to His place flaring from under, 
He the Compeller, the Sun, bared to our wonder. 
Nay, not a league from our eyes blinded with 

gazing. 
Cleared He the gate of the world, huge and 

amazing ! 



20 THE SEVEN SEAS 

This we beheld (and we hve) — the Pit of the 

Burning ! 
Then the God spoke to the tree for our returning ; 
Back to the beach of our flight, fearless and slowly, 
Back to our slayers went he : but we were holy. 



Men that were hot in that hunt, women that 

followed. 
Babes that were promised our bones, trembled and 

wallowed : 
Over the necks of the Tribe crouching and fawning — 
Prophet and priestess we came back from the 

dawning ! 



THE LAST CHANTEY 

' And there was no more sea. ' 

Thus said The Lord in the Vault above the Cheru- 
bim, 
Calling to the Angels and the Souls in their 
degree : 
' Lo ! Earth has passed away 
On the smoke of Judgment Day. 
That Our word may be established shall We 
gather up the sea ? ' 

Loud sang the souls of the jolly, jolly mariners : 
"^Plague upon the hurricane that made us furl 
and flee ! 
But the war is done between us. 
In the deep the Lord hath seen us — 
Our bones we'll leave the barracout', and God 
may sink the sea ! ' 

21 



22 THE SEVEN SEAS 

Then said, the soul of Judas that betrayed Him : 
' Lord, hast Thou forgotten Thy covenant with 
me? 
How once a year I go 
To cool me on the floe ? 
And Ye take my day of mercy if Ye take away 
the sea ! ' 

Then said the soul of the Angel of the Off-shore 
Wind: 
(He that bits the thunder when the bull-mouthed 
breakers flee) : 
' I have watch and ward to keep 
O'er Thy wonders on the deep, 
And Ye take mine honour from me if Ye take 
away the sea ! ' 

Loud sang the souls of the jolly, jolly mariners : 
' Nay, but we were angry, and a hasty folk are 
we ! 
If we worked the ship together 
Till she foundered in foul weather. 
Are we babes that we should clamour for a ven- 
geance on the sea ? ' 



THE LAST CHANTEY 23 

Then said the souls of the slaves that men threw 
overboard : 
'Kennelled in the picaroon a weary band were we; 
But Thy arm was strong to save, 
And it touched us on the wave. 
And we drowsed the long tides idle till Iny 
Trumpets tore the sea.' 

Then cried the soul of the stout Apostle Paul to 
God : 
'Once we frapped a ship^ and she laboured 
woundily. 
There were fourteen score of these. 
And they blessed Thee on their knees, 
When they learned Thy Grace and Glory under 
Malta by the sea ! ' 

Loud sang the souls of the jolly, jolly mariners. 
Plucking at their harps, and they plucked mi- 
handily : 
' Our thumbs are rough and tarred, 
And the tune is something hard — 
May we lift a Deepsea Chantey such as seamen 
use at sea ? ' 



24 THE SEVEN SEAS 

Then sa-:l the souls of the gentlemen - adven- 
turers — 
Fettered wrist to bar all for red iniquity : 
' Ho, we revel in our chains 
O'er the sorrow that was Spain's ; 
Heave or sink it, leave or drink it, we were 
masters of the sea ! ' 



Up spake the soul of a gray Gothavn 'speck- 
shioner — 
(He that led the flinching in the fleets of fair 
Dundee) : 
' Oh, the ice-blink white and near. 
And the bov/head breaching clear ! 
Will Ye whelm them all for wantonness that 
wallow in the sea ? ' 

Loud sang the souls of the jolly, jolly mariners, 
Ciying : ' Under Heaven, here is neither lead 
nor lea ! 
Must we sing for evermore 
On the windless, glassy floor r 
Take back your golden fiddles and we '11 beat to 
open sea ! ' 



THE LAST CHANTEY 25 

Then stooped the Lord, and He called the good 
sea up to Him, 
And 'stablished his borders unto all eternity, 
That such as have no pleasure 
For to praise the Lord by measure, 
They may enter into galleons and serve Him on 
the sea. 

Sun, wind, and cloud shall fail not from the face of it, 
Slinging, ringing spindrift, nor the fulmar jfti/ing 
free ; 
And the ships shall go abroad 
To the Glory of the Lord 
Who heard the silly sailorfolk and gave them back 
their sea ! 



THE MERCHANTMEN 

King Solomon drew merchantmen. 

Because of his desire 
For peacocks, apes, and ivory, 

From Tarshish unto Tyre : 
With cedars out of Lebanon 

Which Hiram rafted down, 
But we be only sailormen 

That use in London town. 

Coashvise — cross-seas — round the roorld and bach again — 
Where the jiaw shall head us or the full Trade suits — 

Plain-sail — storm-sail — lay your board and tack again — 
And that 's the way rve 'II pay Paddy Doyle for his 
boots ! 

We bring no store of ingots, 

Of spice or precious stones. 
But that we have we gathered 

With sweat and aching bones : 

26 



THE MERCHANTMEN 27 

In flame beneath the tropics, 

In frost upon the floe, 
And jeopardy of every wind 

That does between them go. 



And some we got by purchase, 

And some we had by trade, 
And some we found by courtesy 

Of pike and carronade, 
At midnight, 'mid-sea meetings, 

For charity to keep, 
And hght the rolhng homeward-bound 

That rode a foot too deep. 



By sport of bitter weather 

We're walty, strained, and scarred 
From the kentledge on the kelson 

To the slings upon the yard. 
Six oceans had their will of us 

To carry all away — 
Our galley 's in the Baltic, 

And our boom's in Mossel Bay ! 



28 THE SEVEN SEAS 

We 've floundered off the Texel, 

Awash with sodden deals. 
We 've slipped from Valparaiso 

With the Norther at our heels : 
We 've ratched beyond the Crossets 

That tusk the Southern Pole, 
And dipped our gunnels under 

To the dread Agulhas roll. 



Beyond all outer charting 

We sailed where none have sailed. 
And saw the land-lights burning 

On islands none have hailed ; 
Our hair stood up for wonder. 

But, when the night was done. 
There danced the deep to windward 

Blue-empty 'neath the sun ! 



Strange consorts rode beside us 
And brought us evil luck ; 

The witch-fire climbed our channels, 
And flared on vane and truck : 



THE MERCHANTMEN 29 

Till, through the red tornado, 

That lashed us nigh to blind, 
We saw The Dutchman plunging, 

Full canvas, head to wind ! 



We 've heard the Midnight Leadsman 

That calls the black deep down — 
A}-, thrice we 've heard The Swimmer, 

The Thing that may not drown. 
On frozen bunt and gasket 

The sleet-cloud drave her hosts, 
When, manned by more than signed with us 

We passed the Isle o' Ghosts ! 



And north, amid the hummocks, 

A biscuit-toss below. 
We met the silent shallop 

That frighted whalers know ; 
For, down a cruel ice-lane. 

That opened as he sped, 
W^e saw dead Henry Hudson 

Steer, North by W^est, his dead. 



30 THE SEVEN SEAS 

So dealt God's waters with us 

Beneath the roaring skies. 
So walked His signs and marvels 

All naked to our eyes : 
But we were heading homeward 

With trade to lose or make — 
Good Lord, they slipped behind us 

In the tailing of our wake ! 



Let go, let go the anchors ; 

Now shamed at heart are we 
To bring so poor a cargo home 

That had for gift the sea ! 
Let go the great bow-anchors — 

Ah, fools were we and blind — 
The worst we stored with utter toil. 

The best we left behind ! 



Coastwise — cross-seas — round the world and hack again, 
Whither Jiaw shall fail us or the Trades drive down : 

Plain-sail — storm-sail — lay your hoard and tack again — 
And all to hrijig a cargo up to London Town ! 



M'ANDREWS' HYMN 

Lord, Thou hast made this world below the shadow 

of a dream, 
An', taught by time, I tak' it so — exceptin' always 

Steam. 
From coupler-flange to spindle-guide I see Thy 

Hand, O God — 
Predestination in the stride o' yon connectin'-rod. 
John Calvin might ha' forged the same — enorrmous, 

certain, slow — 
Ay, wrought it in the furnace-flame — my ' Institutio.' 
I cannot get my sleep to-night; old bones are hard 

to please ; 
I '11 stand the middle watch up here — alone wi' 

God an' these 
My engines, after ninety days o' race an' rack an' 

strain 
Through all the seas of all Thy world, slam-bangin' 

home again. 



32 THE SEVEN SEAS 

Slam-bang too much — they knock a wee — the 

crosshead-gibs are loose ; 
But thirty thousand mile o' sea has gied them fair 

excuse. . . . 
Fine, clear an' dark — a full-draught breeze, wi' 

Ushant out o' sight, 
An' Ferguson relievin' Hay. Old girl, ye '11 walk 

to-night ! 
His wife 's at Plymouth. . . . Seventy — One — Two 

— Three since he began — 
Three turns for Mistress Ferguson. . . . and who 's 

to blame the man ? 
There 's none at any port for me, by drivin' fast or 

slow. 
Since Elsie Campbell went to Thee, Lord, thirty 

years ago. 
(The year the Sarah Sands was burned. Oh roads 

we used to tread, 
Fra' Maryhill to Follokshaws — fra' Govan to Park- 
head !) 
Not but they 're ceevil on the Board. Ye '11 hear 

Sir Kenneth say : 
' Good morm, M'Andrews ! Back again .'' An' 

how 's your bilge to-day } ' 



M'ANDREWS' HYMN 33 

Miscallin' technicalities but handin' me ray 

chair 
To drink Madeira wi' three Earls — the auld Fleet 

Engineer, 
That started as a boiler-whelp — when steam and 

he were low. 
I mind the time we used to serve a broken pipe 

wi' tow. 
Ten pound was all the pressure then— Eh ! Eh I— 

a man wad drive ; 
An' here, our workin' gauges give one hunder 

fifty-five ! 
We're creepin' on wi' each new rig — less weight 

an' larger power : 
There '11 be the loco-boiler next an' thirty knots an 

hour ! 
Thirty an' more. What I ha' seen since ocean- 
steam began 
Leaves me no doot for the machine : but what 

about the man .'' 
The man that counts, wi' all his runs, one million 

mile o' sea : 
Four time the span from earth to moon. . , How 

far, O Lord, from Thee ? 



34 THE SEVEN SEAS 

That wast beside him night an' day. Ye mind 

my first typhoon ? 
It scoughed the skipper on his way to jock wi' the 

saloon. 
Three feet were on the stokehold-floor — ^just slap- 
pin' to an' fro — 
An' cast me on a furnace-floor. I have the marks 

to show. 
Marks ! I ha' marks o' more than burns — deep in 

my soul an' black, 
An' times like this, when things go smooth, my 

wickudness comes back. 
The sins o' four and forty years, all up an' down 

the seas. 
Clack an' repeat like valves half-fed. . . . Forgie 's 

our trespasses. 
Nights when I 'd come on deck to mark, wi' envy 

in my gaze. 
The couples kittlin' in the dark between the funnel 

stays ; 
Years when I raked the ports wi' pride to fill my 

cup o' wrong — 
Judge not, O Lord, my steps aside at Gay Street in 

Hong-Kong ! 



M'ANDREWS' HYMN 85 

Blot out the wastrel houi-s of mine in sin when I 
abode — 

Jane Harrigan's an' Number Nine, The Reddick an' 
Grant Road ! 

An' waur than all — my crownin' sin — rank blas- 
phemy an' wild. 

I was not four and twenty then — Ye wadna judge 
a child ? 

I 'd seen the Tropics first that run — new fruit, new 
smells, new air — 

How could I tell — blind-fou wi' sun — the Deil was 
lurkin' there ? 

By day like playhouse-scenes the shore slid past 
our sleepy eyes ; 

By night those soft, lasceevious stars leered from 
those velvet skies. 

In port (we used no cargo-steam) I 'd daunder 
down the streets — 

An ijjit grinnin' in a dream — for shells an' parra- 
keets, 

An' walkin'-sticks o' carved bamboo an' blowfish 
stuffed an' dried — 

Fillin' my bunk wi' rubbishry the Chief put over- 
side. 



36 THE SEVEN SEAS 

Till, off Sambawa Head, Ye mind, I heard a land- 
breeze ca'. 

Milk- warm wi' breath o' spice an' bloom : ' M 'An- 
drews, come awa' ! ' 

Firm, clear an' low — no haste, no hate — the ghostly 
whisper went. 

Just statin' eevidential facts beyon' all argu- 
ment : 

'Your mither's God's a graspin' deil, the shadow 
o' yoursel', 

' Got out o' books by meenisters clean daft on 
Heaven an' Hell. 

'They mak' him in the Broomielaw, o' Glasgie cold 
an' dirt, 

'A jealous, pridefu' fetich, lad, that's only strong 
to hurt, 

' Ye '11 not go back to Him again an' kiss His red- 
hot rod, 

' But come wi' Us ' (Now, who were They ?) ' an' 
know the Leevin' God, 

'That does not kipper souls for sport or break a life 
in jest, 

' But swells the ripenin' cocoanuts an' ripes the 
woman's breast.' 



M'ANDREWS' HYMN 37 

An' there it stopped : cut off: no more; that quiet, 

certain voice — 
For me, six months o' twenty four, to leave or take 

at choice. 
'Twas on me like a thunderclap — it racked me 

through an' through — 
Temptation past the show o' speech, unnameable 

an' new — 
The Sin against the Holy Ghost ? . . . An' under 

all, our screw. 
That storm blew by but left behind her anchor- 

shiftin' swell. 
Thou knowest all my heart an' mind. Thou knowest, 

Lord, I fell. 
Third on the Mary Gloster then, and first that night 

in Hell ! 
Yet was Thy hand beneath my head, about my 

feet Thy care — 
Fra' Deli clear to Torres Strait, the trial o' 

despair. 
But when we touched the Barrier Reef Thy answer 

to my prayer ! 
We dared na run that sea by night but lay an' held 

our fire. 



38 THE SEVEN SEAS 

An' I was drowsin' on the hatch — sick — sick wi' 

doubt an' tire : 
'Better the sight of eyes that see than wanderin o desire !' 
Ye mind that word ? Clear as our gongs — again, 

an' once again, 
When rippin' down through coral-trash ran out our 

moorin'-chain ; 
An' by Thy Grace I had the Light to see my duty plain. 
Light on the engine-room — no more — bright as our 

carbons burn. 
I 've lost it since a thousand times, but never past 

return. 

•  • • • • • 

Obsairve. Per annum we '11 have here two thou- 
sand souls aboard — 

Think not I dare to justify myself before the Lord, 

But — average fifteen hunder souls safe-borne fra' 
port to port — 

I am o' service to my kind. Ye wadna blame the 
thought ? 

Maybe they steam from grace to wrath — to sin by 
folly lead, — 

It isna mine to judge their path — their lives are on 
my head. 



M'ANDREWS' HYMN 39 

Mine at the last — when all is done it all comes 

back to me, 
The fault that leaves six thousand ton a log upon 

the sea. 
We'll tak' one stretch — three weeks an' odd by 

any road ye steer — 
Fra' Cape Town east to Wellington — ye need an 

engineer. 
Fail there — ye 've time to weld your shaft — ay^ eat 

it, ere ye 're spoke ; 
Or make Kerguelen under sail — three jiggers 

burned wi' smoke ! 
An' home again, the Rio run : it 's no child's play 

to go 
Steamin' to bell for fourteen days o' snow an' floe 

an' blow — 
The bergs like kelpies overside that girn an' turn 

an' shift 
Whaur, grindin' like the Mills o' God, goes by the 

big South drift. 
(Hail, snow an' ice that praise the Lord : 1 've met 

them at their work, 
An' wished we had auither route or they anither 

kirk.) 



40 THE SEVEN SEAS 

Yon 's strain, hard strain, o' head an' hand, for 

though Thy Power brings 
All skill to naughty Ye '11 understand a man must 

think o' things. 
Then, at the last, we '11 get to port an' hoist their 

baggage clear — 
The passengers, wi' gloves an' canes — an' this is 

what I '11 hear : 
'Well, thank ye for a pleasant voyage. The ten- 
der's comin' now.' 
While I go testin' followei'-bolts an' watch the 

skipper bow. 
They 've words for every one but me — shake hands 

wi' half the crew. 
Except the dour Scots engineer, the man they 

never knew. 
An' yet I like the wark for all we 've dam' few 

pickin's here — 
No pension, an' the most we earn 's four hunder 

pound a year. 
Better myself abroad .-^ Maybe. I'd sooner starve 

than sail 
Wi' such as call a snifter-rod ross. . . . French 

for nightingale. 



M'ANDREWS' HYMN 41 

Commeesion on my stores ? Some do ; but I can 

not afford 
To lie like stewards wi' patty-pans — . I 'm older 

than the Board. 
A bonus on the coal I save ? Ou ay, the Scots are 

close, 
But when I grudge the strength Ye gave I '11 

grudge their food to those. 
(There 's bricks that I might recommend — an' clink 

the fire-bars cruel. 
No ! Welsh — Wangarti at the worst — an' damn all 

patent fuel !) 
Inventions ? Ye must stay in port to mak' a 

patent pay. 
My Deeferential Valve-Gear taught me how that 

business lay, 
I blame no chaps wi' clearer head for aught they 

make or sell. 
/ found that I could not invent an' look to these — 

as well. 
So, wrestled wi' Apollyon — Nah ! — fretted like a 

bairn — 
But burned the workin'-plans last run wi' all I 

hooed to earn. 



42 THE SEVEN SEAS 

Ye know how hard an Idol dies, an' what that 

meant to me — 
E'en tak' it for a sacrifice acceptable to Thee. . . . 
Below there ! Oiler ! What 's your wark ? Ye Jind 

it runnin' hard ? 
Yc needn't swill the cap wi' oil — this isn't the Cunard ! 
Ye thought ? Ye are not paid to think. Go, sweat 

that off again ! 
Tck ! Tck! It's deeficult to sweer nor tak' The 

Name in vain ! 
Men, ay an' women, call me stern. Wi' these to 

o /ei'see 
Ye '11 note I 've little time to burn on social repartee. 
The bairns see what their elders miss ; they'll hunt 

me to an' fro, 
Till for th e sake of— well, a kiss— I tak' ' em down below. 
That minds me of our Viscount loon — Sir Kenneth's 

kin — the chap 
Wi' Russia leather tennis-shoon an' spar-decked 

yachtin'-cap. 
I showed him round last week, o'er all — an' at the 

last says he : 
'Mister M'Andrews, don't you think steam spoils 

romance at sea ? ' 



M'ANDREWS' HYMN 43 

Damned ijjit ! I 'd been doon that morn to see 

what ailed the throws, 
ManhoHn', on my back — the cranks three inches 

off my nose. 
Romance ! Those first-class passengers they like it 

very well. 
Printed an' bound in little books ; but why don't 

poets tell ? 
I'm sick of all their quirks an' turns — the loves an 

doves they dream — 
Lord, send a man like Robbie Burns to sing the 

Song o' Steam ! 
To match wi' Scotia's noblest speech yon orchestra 

sublime 
Whaurto — uplifted like the Just — the tail-rods 

mark the time. 
The crank-throws give the double-bass, the feed- 
pump sobs an' heaves. 
An' now the main eccentrics start their quarrel on 

the sheaves : 
Her time, her own appointed time, the rocking 

link-head bides. 
Till — hear that note ? — the rod's return whings 

glimmerin' through the guides. 



44 THE SEVEN SEAS 

They 're all awa ! True beat, full power, the 
clangin' chorus goes 

Clear to the tunnel where they sit, my purrin' 
dynamoes. 

Interdependence absolute, foreseen, ordained, de- 
creed. 

To work. Ye '11 note, at any tilt an' every rate o' 
speed. 

Fra skylight-lift to furnace-barg, backed, bolted, 
braced an' stayed, 

An' singin' like the Mornin' Stars for joy that they 
are made ; 

While, out o' touch o' vanity, the sweatin' thrust- 
block says : 

' Not unto us the praise, or man — not unto us the 
praise ! ' 

Now, a' together, hear them lift their lesson — theirs 
an' mine : 

'Law, Orrder, Duty an' Restraint, Obedience, 
Discipline ! ' 

Mill, forge an' try-pit taught them that when 
roarin' they arose. 

An' whiles I wonder if a soul was gied them wi' 
the blows. 



M'ANDREWS' HYMN 45 

Oh for a man to weld it then, in one trip-hammer 

strain. 
Till even first-class passengers could tell the meanin' 

plain ! 
But no one cares except mysel' that serve an' 

understand 
My seven thousand horse-power here. Eh, Lord! 

They 're grand — they 're grand ! 
Uplift am I? When first in store the new-made 

beasties stood, 
Were Ye cast down that breathed the Word 

declarin' all things good ? 
Not so! O' that warld-liftin' joy no after-fall 

could vex, 
Ye 've left a glimmer still to cheer the Man— the 

Arrtifex ! 
That holds, in spite o' knock and scale, o' friction, 

waste an' slip, 
An' by that light — now, mark my word — we'll 

build the Perfect Ship. 
I '11 never last to judge her lines or take her curve 

— not I. 
But I ha' lived an' I ha' worked. 'Be thanks to 

Thee, Most High ! 



46 THE SEVEN SEAS 

An' I ha' done what I ha' done — ^jtidge Thou if ill 

or well — 
Always Thy Grace preventin' me. . . . 

Losh ! Yon 's the ' Stand by ' bell. 
Pilot so soon ? His flai'e it is. The mornin' -watch 

is set. 
Well^ God be thanked, as I was sayin', I 'm no 

Pelagian yet. 
Now I '11 tak' on. . . . 

'Morni, Ferguson. Man, have ye ever thought 
What your good leddy costs hi coal? . . . /'// hum 

'em down to port. 



THE MIRACLES 

I SENT a message to my dear— 

A thousand leagues and more to Her- 
The dumb sea-levels thrilled to hear, 

And Lost Atlantis bore to Her. 

Behind my message hard I came, 
And nigh had found a grave for me ; 

But that I launched of steel and flame 
Did war against the wave for me. 

Uprose the deep, by gale on gale. 
To bid me change my mind again — 

He broke his teeth along my rail. 
And, roaring, swung behind again. 

I stayed the sun at noon to tell 
My way across the waste of it ; 

I read the storm before it fell 
And made the better haste of it. 

D - 47 



48 THE SEVEN SEAS 

Afar, I hailed the land at night — 

The towers I built had heard of me — 

And, ere my rocket reached its height, 
Had flashed my Love the word of me. 

Earth sold her chosen men of strength 
(They lived and strove and died for me) 

To drive my road a nation's length. 
And toss the miles aside for me, 

I snatched their toil to serve my needs — 
Too slow their fleetest flew for me — 

I tired twenty smoking steeds. 

And bade them bait a iiew for me. 

I sent the lightnings forth to see 
Where hour by hour She waited me. 

Among ten million one was She, 
And surely all men hated me ! 

Dawn ran to meet me at my goal — 
Ah, day no tongue shall tell again ! 

And little folk of little soul 
Rose up to buy and sell again ! 



THE NATIVE-BORN 

We've drunk to the Queen — God bless her !- 

We 've drunk to our mothers' land ; 
We 've drunk to our English brother, 

(But he does not understand) ; 
We've drunk to the wide creation. 

And the Cross swings low for the morn. 
Last toast, and of obligation, 

A health to the Native-born ! 



They change their skies above them, 

But not their hearts that roam ! 
We learned from our wistful mothers 

To call old England 'home'; 
We read of the English sky-lark. 

Of the spring in the English lanes. 
But we screamed with the painted lories 

As we rode on the dusty plains ! 

49 



50 THE SEVEN SEAS 

They passed with their old-world legends — 

Their tales of wrong and dearth — 
Our fathers held by purchase^ 

But we by the right of birth ; 
Our heart 's where they rocked our cradle, 

Our love where we spent our toil. 
And our faith and our hope and our honour 

We pledge to our native soil ! 



I charge you charge your glasses — 

I charge you drink with me 
To the men of the Four New Nations,, 

And the Islands of the Sea — 
To the last least lump of coral 

That none may stand outside, 
And our own good pride shall teach us 

To praise our comrade's pride ! 



To the hush of the breathless morning 
On the thin, tin, crackling roofs, 

To the haze of the burned back -ranges 
And the dust of the shoeless hoofs — 



THE NATIVE-BORN 61 

To the risk of a death by drowning. 
To the risk of a death by drouth — 

To the men of a miUion acres, 

To the Sons of the Golden South ! 

To the Sons of the Golden South (Stand up !), 

And the life we live and know, 
Let a fellow sing o' the little things he cares about, 
If a fellow fights for the little things he cares about 

With the weight of a single blow ! 

To the smoke of a hundred coasters. 

To the sheep on a thousand hills. 
To the sun that never blisters. 

To the rain that never chills — 
To the land of the waiting springtime, 

To our five-meal, meat-fed men, 
To the tall, deep-bosomed women. 

And the children nine and ten ! 

And the children nine and ten (^Sland up I), 

And the life we live and know, 
Let a fellow sing o' the little things he cares about, 
If a fellow fights for the little things he cares about 

With the weight of a two-fold bloiv ! 



52 THE SEVEN SEAS 

To the far-flung fenceless prairie 

Where the quick cloud-shadows trail, 
To our neighbour's barn in the offing 

And the line of the new-cut rail ; 
To the plough in her league-long furrow 

With the grey Lake gulls behind — 
To the weight of a half-year's winter 

And the warm wet western wind ! 



To the home of the floods and thunder. 

To her pale dry healing blue — 
To the lift of the great Cape combers, 

And the smell of the baked Karroo. 
To the growl of the sluicing stamp-head — 

To the reef and the water-gold, 
To the last and the largest Empire, 

To the map that is half unrolled i 



To our dear dark foster-mothers. 
To the heathen songs they sung — 

To the heathen speech we babbled 

Ere we came to the white man's tongue. 



THE NATIVE-BORN 63 

To the cool of our deep verandas — 
To the blaze of our jewelled main. 

To th3 night, to the palms in the moonlight, 
And the fire-fly in the cane ! 



To the hearth of our people's people — 

To her well-ploughed windy sea, 
To the hush of our dread high-altar 

Where The Abbey makes us We ; 
To the grist of the slow-ground ages, 

To the gain that is yours and mine — 
To the Bank of the Open Credit, 

To the Power-house of the Line ! 



We've drunk to the Queen — God bless her! — 

We 've drunk to our mothers' land ; 
We 've drunk to our English brother 

(And we hope he '11 understand). 
We 've drunk as much as -.ve 're able. 

And the Cross swings low for the morn ; 
Last toast — and your foot on the table ! — 

A health to the Native-born ! 



54 THE SEVEN SEAS 

A health to the Native-born (Sta7id up !), 

We're six white men arow, 
All bound to sing o' the little things we care about, 
All bound tojightfor the little things we care about 

With the weight of a six-fold blow ! 
By the might of our cable-tow (Take ha?ids /), 

From the Orkneys to the Horn, 
All round the world (and a little loop to pull it by). 
All round the yvorld (and a little strap) to buckle it), 

A health to the Native-born ! 



THE KING 

' Farewell, Romance ! ' the Cave-men said ; 

' With bone well carved he went away, 
Flint arms the ignoble arrowhead, 

And jasper tips the spear to-day. 
Changed are the Gods of Hunt and Dance, 
And he with these. Farewell, Romance ! ' 

'Farewell, Romance !' the Lake-folk sighed ; 
' We lift the weight of flatling years ; 
The caverns of the mountain-side 

Hold him who scorns our hutted piers. 
Lost hills whereby we dare not dwell. 
Guard ye his rest. Romance, Farewell ! ' 

' Farewell, Romance ! ' the Soldier spoke ; 
' By sleight of sword we may not win. 
But scuffle 'mid uncleanly smoke 
Of arquebus and culverin. 

55 



5G THE SEVEN SEAS 

Honour is lost, and none may teJl 

Who paid good blows. Romance, farewell ! ' 

'Farewell, Romance ! ' the Traders cried; 

' Our keels ha' lain with every sea ; 
The dull-returning wind and tide 

Heave up the wharf where we would be ; 
The known and noted breezes swell 
Our trudging sail. Romance, farewell ! ' 

' Good-bye, Romance ! ' the Skipper said ; 
' He vanished with the coal we burn ; 
Our dial marks full steam ahead. 

Our speed is timed to half a turn. 
Sure as the ferried barge we ply 
'Twixt port and port. Romance, good-bye ! * 

' Romance !' the season-tickets mourn, 
' He never ran to catch his train, 
But passed with coach and guard and horn — 

And left the local — late again ! ' 
Confound Romance ! . . . And all unseen 
Romance brought up the nine-fifteen. 



THE KING 57 

His hand was on the lever laid, 

His oil-can soothed the worrying cranks. 

His whistle waked the snowbound grade, 
His fog-horn cut the reeking Banks ; 

By dock and deep and mine and mill 

The Boy-god reckless laboured still ! 

Robed, crowned and throned, he wove his spell, 
Where heart-blood beat or hearth-smoke 

curled. 
With unconsidered miracle, 

Hedged in a backward-gazing world ; 
Then taught his chosen bard to say : 
' Our King was with us yesterday ! ' 



THE RHYME OF THE THREE SEALERS 

Away by the lands of the Japanee 

Where the paper lanterns glow 
And the crews of all the shipping drink 

In the house of Blood Street Joe, 
At twilight, when the landward breeze 

Bri7igs up the harbour noise, 
And ebb of Yokohama Bay 

Swigs chattering throttgh the buoys, 
In Cisco's Dewdrop Dining Rooms 

They tell the tale anew 
Of a hidden sea and a hidden Jight, 
When the Baltic ran from the Northern Light 

And the '&tval&\xi\(S. fought the two. 

Now this is the Law of the Muscovite, that he 

proves with shot and steel, 
When ye come by his isles in the Smoky Sea ye 

must not take the seal, 

58 



THE RHYME OF THE THREE SEALERS 59 

Where the grey sea goes nakedly between the 

weed-hung shelves. 
And the little blue fox he is bred for his skin and 

the seal they bi-eed for themselves ; 
For when the matkas seek the shore to drop their 

pups aland. 
The great man-seal haul out of the sea, aroaring, 

band by band ; 
And when the first September gales have slaked 

their rutting-wrath, 
The ffreat man-seal haul back to the sea and no 

man knows their path. 
Then dark they lie and stark they lie — rookery, 

dune, and floe, 
And the Northern Lights come down o' nights to 

dance with the houseless snow ; - 
And God Who clears the grounding berg and steers 

the grinding floe, 
He hears the cry of the little kit-fox and the 

wind along the snow. 
But since our women must walk gay and money 

buys their gear, 
The sealing-boats they filch that way at hazard 

year by year. 



60 THE SEVEN SEAS 

English they be and Japanee that hang on the 

Brown Bear's flank, 
And some be Scot, but the worst, God wot, and 

the boldest thieves, be Yank ! 



It was the sealer Northern Light, to tlie Smoky Seas 

she bore. 
With a stovepipe stuck from a starboard port and 

the Russian flag at her fore. 
(Baltic, Stralsund, and Northern Light — oh ! they 

were birds of a feather — 
Slipping away to the Smoky Seas, three seal-thieves 

together !) 
And at last she came to a sandy cove and the Baltic 

lay therein, 
But her men were up with the herding seal to 

drive and club and skin. 
There were fifteen hundred skins abeach, cool pelt 

and proper fur. 
When the Northern Light drove into the bight and 

the sea-mist drove with her. 
The Baltic called her men and weighed — she could 

not choose but run— 



THE RHYME OF THE THREE SEALERS Gl 

For a stovepipe seen through the closing mist^ it 

shows hke a four-inch gun 
(And loss it is that is sad as death to lose both trip 

and ship 
And lie for a rotting contraband on Vladivostock slip). 
She turned and dived in the sea-smother as a 

rabbit dives in the whins, 
And the Northern Light sent up her boats to steal 

the stolen skins. 
They had not brought a load to side or slid their 

hatches clear, 
When they were aware of a sloop-of-war, ghost- 
white and very near. 
Her flag she showed, and her guns she showed — 

three of them, black, abeam. 
And a funnel white with the crusted salt, but never 

a show of steam. 

There was no time to man the brakes, they knocked 

the shackle free. 
And the Northern Light stood out again, goose-winged 

to open sea, 
(For life it is that is worse than death, by force of 

Russian law 



62 THE SEVEN SEAS 

To work in the mines of mercury that loose the 

teeth in your jaw.) 
They had not run a mile from shore — they heard 

no shots behind — 
When the skipper smote his hand on his thigh and 

threw her up in the wind : 
' Bluffed— raised out on a bluff/ said he, ' for if my 

name 's Tom Hall, 
' You must set a thief to catch a thief — and a thief 

has caught us all ! 
* By every butt in Oregon and every spar in 

Maine, 
' The hand that spilled the wind from her sail was 

the hand of Reuben Paine ! 
' He has rigged and trigged her with paint and spar, 

and, faith, he has faked her well — 
' But I 'd know the Stralsund's deckhouse yet from 

here to the booms o' Hell. 
' Oh, once we ha' met at Baltimore, and twice on 

Boston pier, 
' But the sickest day for you, Reuben Paine, was the 

day that you came here — 
'The day that you came here, my lad, to scare us 

from our seal 



THE RHYME OF THE THREE SEALERS 63 

' With your funnel made o' your painted cloth, and 

your guns o' rotten deal ! 
' Ring and blow for the Baltic now, and head her 

back to the bay, 
'And we '11 come into the game again — with a double 

deck to play ! ' 

They rang and blew the sealers' call — the poaching 

cry of the sea — 
And they raised the Baltic out of the mist, and an 

angry ship was she : 
And blind they groped through the whirling white 

and blind to the bay again. 
Till they heard the creak of the Slrahiind's boom 

and the clank of her mooring chain. - 
They laid them down by bitt and boat, their pistols 

in their belts, 
And : ' Will you fight for it, Reuben Paine, or will 

you share the pelts ? ' 

A dog-toothed laugh laughed Reuben Paine, and 

bared his flenching-knife. 
* Yea, skin for skin, and all that he hath a man will 

give for his life ; 



64 THE SEVEN SEAS 

But I 've six thousand skins below^ an J Yeddo Port 

to see. 
And there 's never a law of God or man runs north 

of Fifty-Three : 
So go in peace to the naked seas with empty holds 

to fill, 
And I '11 be good to your seal this catch, as many as 

I shall kill ! ' 



Answered the snap of a closing lock and the jar of 

a gun-butt slid. 
But the tender fog shut fold on fold to hide the 

wrong they did. 
The weeping fog rolled fold on fold the wrath of 

man to cloak. 
And the flame-spurts pale ran down the rail as the 

sealing-rifles spoke. 
The bullets bit on bend and butt, the splinter 

slivered free 
(Little they trust to sparrow-dust that stop the seal 

in his sea !), 
The thick smoke hung and would not shift, leaden 

it lay and blue, 



THE RHYME OF THE THREE SEALERS 65 

But three were down on the Baltic's deck and two 

of the Stralsund's crew. 
An arm's length out and overside the banked fog 

held them bound, 
But, as they heard or groan or word, they fired at 

the sound. 
For one cried out on the Name of God, and one to 

have him cease. 
And the questing volley found them both and bade 

them hold their peace ; 
And one called out on a heathen joss and one on 

the Virgin's Name, 
And the schooling bullet leaped across and showed 

them whence they came. 
And in the waiting silences the rudder whined 

beneath, 
And each man drew his watchful breath slow taken 

'tween the teeth — 
Trigger and ear and eye acock, knit brow and hard- 
drawn lips — 
Bracing his feet by chock and cleat for the rolling 

of the ships. 
Till they heard the cough of a wounded man that 

fought in the fog for breath, 



GG THE SEVEN SEAS 

Till they heard the torment of Reuben Paine that 
wailed upon his death : 

' The tides they '11 go through Fundy Race but I '11 
go never more 

'And see the hogs from ebb-tide mark turn scam- 
pering back to shore. 

'^No more I '11 see the trawlers drift below the Bass 
Rock ground, 

' Or watch the tall Fall steamer lights tear blazing 
up the Sound. 

'Sorrow is me, in a lonely sea and a sinful fight I 
fall, 

' But if there 's law o' God or man you '11 swing for 
it yet, Tom Hall ! ' 

Tom Hall stood up by the quarter-rail. ' Your 

words in your teeth/ said he. 
There 's never a law of God or man runs north of 

Fifty-Three. 
' So go in grace with Him to face, and an ill-spent 

life behad, 
' And I '11 be good to your widows, Rube, as many 

as I shall find.' 



THE RHYME OF THE THREE SEALERS 67 

A Strahund man shot blind and large, and a war- 
lock Finn was he, 
And he hit Tom Hall with a bursting ball a hand's- 

breadth over the knee. 
Tom Hall caught hold by the topping-lift, and sat 

him down with an oath, 
' You '11 wait a little, Rube,' he said, ' the Devil has 

called for both. 
'The Devil is driving both this tide, and the kill- 
ing-grounds are close, 
'And we'll go up to the Wrath of God as the 

holluschickie goes. 
' O men, put back your guns again and lay your 

rifles by, 
'We've fought our fight, and the best are down. 

Let up and let us die ! 
' Quit firing, by the bow there — quit ! Call off the 

Bailie's crew ! 
' You 're sure of Hell as me or Rube— but wait till 

we get through.' 
There went no word between the ships, but thick 

and quick and loud 
The life-blood drummed on the dripping decks, 
with the fog-dew from the shroud, 



68 THE SEVEN SEAS 

The sea-pull drew them side by side, gunnel to 

gunnel laid, 
And they felt the sheerstrakes pound and clear, 

but never a word was said. 



Then Reuben Paine cried out again before his 

spirit passed : 
' Have I followed the sea for thirty years to die in 

the dark at last ? 
' Cui'se on her work that has nipped me here with 

a shifty trick unkind — 
' I have gotten my death where I got my bread, 

but I dare not face it blind. 
' Curse on the fog ! Is there never a wind of all 

the winds I knew 
'To clear the smother from off my chest, and let 

me look at the blue ? ' 
The good fog heard — like a splitten sail, to left and 

right she tore. 
And they saw the sun-dogs in the haze and the 

seal upon the shore. 
Silver and grey ran spit and bay to meet the steel- 
backed tide, 



THE RHYME OF THE THREE SEALERS 69 

And pinched and white in the clearing light the 

crews stared overside. 
O rainbow-gay the red pools lay that swilled and 

spilled and spread, 
And gold, raw gold, the spent shell rolled between 

the careless dead — 
The dead that rocked so drunkenwise to weather 

and to lee. 
And they saw the work their hands had done as 

God had bade them see. 



And a little breeze blew over the rail that made 
the headsails lift, 

But no man stood by wheel or sheet, and they let 
the schooners drift. 

And the rattle rose in Reuben's throat and he cast 
his soul with a cry. 

And ' Gone already ? ' Tom Hall he said. ' Then 
it's time for me to die.' 

His eyes were heavy with great sleep and yearn- 
ing for the land, 

And he spoke as a man that talks in dreams, his 
wound beneath his hand. 



70 THE SEVEN SEAS 

' Oh, there comes no good o' the westering wind 

that backs against the sun ; 
'Wash down the decks — they're all too red — and 

shai*e the skins and run, 
' Baltic, Stralsund, and Northern Light — clean share 

and share for all, 
' You '11 find the fleets off Tolstoi Mees, but you 

will not find Tom Hall. 
'Evil he did in shoal-water and blacker sin on the 

deep, 
' But now he 's sick of watch and trick and now 

he '11 turn and sleep. 
' He '11 have no more of the crawling sea that made 

him suffer so, 
' But he '11 lie down on the killing-grounds where 

the holluschickie go. 
'And west you'll sail and south again, beyond the 

sea-fog's rim, 
' And tell the Yoshiwara girls to burn a stick for 

him. 
'And you'll not weight him by the heels and dump 

him overside, 
* But carry him up to the sand-hollows to die as 

Bering died, 



THE RHYME OF THE THREE SEALERS 71 

' And make a place for Reuben Paine that knows 

the fight was fair, 
' And leave the two that did the wrong to talk it 

over there ! ' 



Half-steam ahead hy guess and lead, for the sun is 

mostly veiled — 
Through fog to fog, by luck and log, sail ye as Bering 

sailed ; 
And if the light shall lift aright to give your landfall plain . 
North and by west, from Zapne Crest, ye raise the 

Crosses Twain. 
Fair marks are they tu the inner bay, the reckless 

poacher knows 
What time the scarred see-catchie lead their sleek seraglios. 
Ever they hear the foe-pack clear, a7id the blast of the 

old bull-whale, 
And the deep seal-roar that beats ojj'-shore above the 

loudest gale. 
Ever they wait the ivinter's hate as the thundering 

boorga calls, 
Where northward look they to St. George, and westward 

to St. Paul's. 



72 THE SEVEN SEAS 

Ever ihey greet the hunted Jieet — lone keels ojf' head- 
lands drear — 
When the seaUng-schooners Jlit that way at hazard 

year hy year. 
Ever in Yokohama port men tell the tale anew 
Of a hidden sea and a hidden Jight, 
When the Baltic ran from the Northern Light 
And the Stralsundyb?/^-^^ the two. 



THE DERELICT 

'And reports the derelict Mary Pollock ,siill at sea.' 

SHIPPING NEWS. 

/ fvas the staunchest of our jieet 
Till the sea rose beneath our feet 

Unheralded, in hatred past all measure. 
Into his pits he stamped my crew, 
Buffeted, blinded, bound and threw, 

Bidding me eyeless wait upon his pleasure. 

Man made me, and my will 

Is to my maker still, 
Whom now the currents con, the rollers steer — 

Lifting forlorn to spy 

Trailed smoke along the sky. 
Falling afraid lest any keel come near ! 

Wrenched as the lips of thirst, 
Wried, dried, and split and burst. 
Bone-bleached my decks, wind-scoured to the 



graining ; 



73 



74 THE SEVEN SEAS 

And jarred at every roll 
The gear that was my soul 
Answers the anguish of my beams' complaining. 

For life that crammed me full. 

Gangs of the prying gull 
That shriek and scrabble on the riven hatches ! 

For roar that dumbed the gale, 

My hawse-pipes guttering wail. 
Sobbing my heart out through the uncounted 
watches ! 

Blind in the hot blue ring 

Through all my points I swing — 
Swing and return to shift the sun anew. 

Blind in my well-known sky 

I hear the stars go by, 
Mocking the prow that can not hold one true f 

White on my wasted path 

Wave after wave in wrath 
Frets 'gainst his fellow, warring where to send me. 

Flung forward, heaved aside. 

Witless and dazed I bide 
The mercy of the comber that shall end me. 



THE DERELICT 75 

North where the bergs careen, 

The spray of seas unseen 
Smokes round my head and freezes in the falling ; 

South where the corals breed, 

The footless, floating weed 
Folds me and fouls me, strake on strake upcrawl- 
ing. 

I that was clean to run 

My race against the sun — 
Strength on the deep, am bawd to all disaster — 

Whipped forth by night to meet 

My sister's careless feet, 
And with a kiss betray her to my master ! 

Man made me, and ray will 

Is to my maker still — 
To him and his, our peoples at their pier : 

Lifting in hope to spy 

Trailed smoke along the sky. 
Falling afraid lest any keel come near ! 



THE ANSWER 

A Rose, in tatters on the garden path. 

Cried out to God and murmured 'gainst His Wrath, 

Because a sudden wind at twilight's hush 

Had snapped her stem alone of all the bush. 

And God, Who hears both sun-dried dust and sim, 

Had pity, whispering to that luckless one. 

' Sister, in that thou sayest We did not well — 

What voices heardst thou when thy petals fell ? ' 

And the Rose answered, ^ In that evil hour 

A voice said, " Father, wherefore falls the flower ? 

For lo, the very gossamers are still." 

And a voice answered, "Son, by Allah's will !" ' 

Then softly as a rain-mist on the sward. 
Came to the Rose the Answer of the Lord : 
' Sister, before We smote the dark in twain. 
Ere yet the stars saw one another plain, 

-76 



THE ANSWER 77 

Time, Tide, and Space, We bound unto the task 
That thou shouldst fall, and such an one should ask.' 
Whereat the withered flower, all content, 
Died as they die whose days are innocent ; 
While he who questioned why the flower fell 
Caught hold of God and saved his soul from Hell, 



THE SONG OF THE BANJO 

You couldn't pack a Broad wood half a mile — 

You mustn't leave a fiddle in the damp — 
You couldn't raft an organ up the Nile, 

And play it in an Equatorial swamp. 
I travel with the cooking-pots and pails — 

/'m sandwiched 'tween the coffee and the 
pork — 
And when the dusty column checks and tails, 

You should hear me spur the rearguard to a 
walk ! 



With my ' PiUy-rvilly-winky-ivinky popp ! ' 

[Oh, it's any tune that comes into my 
head !] 

So I keep 'em moving forward till they drop; 
So I play 'em up to water and to bed. 

7S 



THE SONG OF THE BANJO 79 

In the silence of the camp before the fight, 

When it 's good to make your will and say your 
prayer. 
You can hear my strumpty-tumpty overnight 

Explaining ten to one was always fair. 
I 'm the Prophet of the Utterly Absurd, 

Of the Patently Impossible and Vain — 
And when the Thing that Couldn't has occurred, 

Give me time to change my leg and go 
again. 

With my ' Tumpa-tumpa-tumpa-tu7}i-pa tump ! ' 
In the desert where the dung-fed camp-smoke 
curled 
There was never voice before us till I led our 
lonely chorus, 
I — the war-drum of the White Man round 
the world ! 



By the bitter road the Younger Son must tread, 
Ere he win to hearth and saddle of his own, — 

' Mid the riot of the shearers at the shed. 
In the silence of the herder's hut alone — 

F 



80 THE SEVEN SEAS 

In the twilight, on a bucket upside down, 

Hear me babble what the weakest won't con- 
fess— 

I am Memory and Torment — I am Town ! 
I am all that ever went with evening dress ! 

With my ' Tunk-a tunka-tunka-tunhi-tuuk ! ' 

[So the lights — the London Lights — grow 
near and plain !] 
So I rowel 'em afresh towards the Devil and 
the Flesh, 
Till I bring my broken rankers home again. 

In desire of many marvels over sea. 

Where the new-raised tropic city sweats and 
roars, 
I have sailed with Young Ulysses from the quay 

Till the anchor rumbled down on stranger 
shores. 
He is blooded to the open and the sky. 

He is taken in a snare that shall not fail, 
He shall hear me singing strongly, till he die, 

Like the shouting of a backstay in a gale. 



THE SONG OF THE BANJO 81 

With my 'Hya! Heeija! Heeya! Hullah! Haul!' 
[O the green that thunders aft along the 
deck !] 
Are you sick o' towns and men ? You must 
sign and sail again, 
For it 's ' Johnny Bowlegs, pack your kit and 
trek ! ' 

Through the gorge that gives the stars at noon-day 
clear — 
Up the pass that packs the scud beneath our 
wheel — 
Round the bluff that sinks her thousand fathom 
sheer — 
Down the valley with our guttering brakes 
asqueal : 
Where the trestle groans and quivers in the snow, 
Where the many-shedded levels loop and twine. 
So I lead my reckless children from below 
Till we sing the Song of Roland to the pine. 

With my * Tmka-tin'ka-liiika-tinka-link ! ' 

[And the axe has cleared the mountain, croup 
and crest !] 



82 THE SEVEN SEAS 

So we ride the iron stallions down to drink. 
Through the cailons to the waters of the 
West ! 



And the tunes that mean so much to you alone — 
Common tunes that make you choke and blow 
your nose. 
Vulgar tunes that bring the laugh that brings the 
groan — 
I can rip your very heartstrings out with those ; 
With the feasting, and the folly, and the fun — 

And the lying, and the lusting, and the drink. 
And the merry play that drops you, when you 're 
done. 
To the thoughts that burn like irons if you 
think. 

With my ' Plunka-lunka-lunka-lunka-lunk ! ' 
Here 's a trifle on account of pleasure 

past, 
Ere the wit that made you win gives you eyes 

to see your sin 
And the heavier repentance at the last ! 



THE SONG OF THE BANJO 83 

Let the orffan moan her sorrow to the roof — 

I have told the naked stars the Grief of Man ! 
Let the trumpets snare the foeman to the proof — 

I have known Defeat, and mocked it as we 
ran ! 
My bray ye may not alter nor mistake 

When I stand to jeer the fatted Soul of Things, 
But the Song of Lost Endeavour that I make. 

Is it hidden in the twanging of the strings ? 



With my ' Ta-ra-rara-rara-ra-ra-rrrp ! ' 

[Is it naught to you that hear and pass me 
by?] 
But the word — the word is mine, when the 
order moves the line 
And the lean^, locked ranks go roaring down 
to die. 

The grandam of my grandam was the Lyre — 
[O the blue below the little fisher huts !] 

That the Stealer stooping beachward filled with 
fire, 
Till she bore my iron head and ringing guts ! 



84 THE SEVEN SEAS 

By the wisdom of the centuries I speak — 
To the tune of yestermorn I set the truth — 

I, the joy of Hfe unquestioned — I, the Greek — 
I, the everlasting Wonder Song of Youth ! 

With my ' Tinka-linka-tinka-tinka-tiiik ! ' 

[What d' ye lack, my noble masters ? What 
d' ye lack ?] 

So I draw the world together link by link : 
Yea, from Delos up to Limerick and back ! 



THE LINER SHE'S A LADY 

The Liner she's a lady, an' she never looks nor 

'eeds — 
The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, an' 'e gives 'er all 

she needs ; 
But, oh, the little cargo-boats, that sail the wet 

seas roun', 
They're just the same as you an' me a-plyin' up 

an' down ! 



Plyin up an doivn, Jenny, 'angiti' round the 

Yard, 
All the wax) hij Fratlon tram down to Ports- 

vioidh 'Ardj 
Anythin' for business, an ive'rc growin old — 
Phfin' up an' down, Jenny, waitin' in the cold ! 

85 



86 THE SEVEN SEAS 

The Liner she's a lady by the paint upon 'er face, 

An' if she meets an accident they count it sore dis- 
grace : 

The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, and 'e 's always 
'andy by. 

But, oh, the little cargo-boats ! they 've got to load 
or die. 

The Liner she 's a lady, and 'er route is cut an' 

dried ; 
The Man-o'-War 's 'er 'usband, an' 'e always keeps 

beside ; 
But, oh, the little cargo-boats that 'aven't any 

man. 
They 've got to do their business first, and make the 

most they can ! 

The Liner she 's a lady, and if a war should come. 
The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, and 'e 'd bid 'er stay 

at home ; 
But, oh, the little cargo-boats that fill with every 

tide! 
'E 'd 'ave to up an' fight for them, for they are 

England's pride. 



THE LINER SHE "S A LADY 87 

The Liner she 's a lady, but if she wasn't made, 
There still would be the cargo-boats for 'ome an' 

foreign trade. 
The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, but if we wasn't 

'ere, 
'E wouldn't have to fight at all for 'ome an' friends 

so dear. 

'Ome an friends so dear, Jenny, 'angin' round the 

Yard, 
All the way by Fratton tram down to Portsmouth 

'Ard; 
Anyihin for business, an we're growin old — 
'Ome an friends so dear, Jenny, waitin in the 

cold ! 



MULHOLLAND'S CONTRACT 

The fear was on the cattle, for the gale was on the 

sea. 
An' the pens broke up on the lower deck an' let the 

creatures free — 
An' the lights went out on the lower deck, an' no 

one near but me. 

I had been singin' to them to keep 'em quiet there, 
For the lower deck is the dangerousest, requirin' 

constant care. 
An' give to me as the strongest man, though used 

to drink and swear, 

I see my chance was certain of bein' horned or trod, 
For the lower deck was packed with steers thicker 'n 

peas in a pod. 
An' more pens broke at every roll — so I made a 

Contract with God. 

88 



MULHOLLAND'S CONTRACT 89 

An' by the terms of the Contract, as I have read 

the same. 
If He got me to port alive I would exalt His Name, 
An praise His Holy Majesty till further orders came. 

He saved me from the cattle an' He saved me from 

the sea, 
For they found me 'tween two drownded ones 

where the roll had landed me — 
An' a four-inch crack on top of my head, as crazy 

as could be. 

But that were done by a stanchion, an' not by a 

bullock at all, 
An' I lay still for seven weeks convalessing of the fall, 
An' readin' the shiny Scripture texts in the Sea- 
man's Hospital. 

An' I spoke to God of our Contract, an' He says to 

my prayer : 
* I never puts on My ministers no more than they 

can bear. 
'So back you go to the cattle-boats an' preach My 

Gospel there. 



90 THE SEVEN SEAS 

' For human life is chancy at any kind of trade, 

' But most of all, as well you know, when the steers 

are mad-afraid ; 
' So you go back to the cattle-boats an' preach 'em 

as I 've said. 

'They must quit drinkin' an' swearin', they mustn't 

knife on a blow, 
'They must quit gamblin' their wages, and you 

must preach it so ; 
' For now those boats are more like Hell than 

anything else I know.' 

I didn't want to do it, for I knew what I should get. 
An' I wanted to preach Religion, handsome an' out 

of the wet, 
But the Word of the Lord were lain on me, an' I 

done what I was set. 

I have been smit an' bruised, as warned would be 
the case, 

An' turned my cheek to the smiter exactly as Scrip- 
ture says ; 

But following that, I knocked him down an' led 
him up to Grace. 



MULHOLLAND'S CONTRACT 91 

An' we have preaching on Sundays whenever the 

sea is calm. 
An' I use no knife or pistol an' I never take no 

hai-m. 
For the Lord abideth back of me to guide my 

fighting arm. 

An' I sign for four pound ten a month and save the 

money clear. 
An' I am in charge of the lower deck, an' I never 

lose a steer ; 
An' I believe in Almighty God an' preach His 

Gospel here. 

The skippers say I 'm crazy, but I can prove 'em 
wrong. 

For I am in charge of the lower deck with all that 
doth belong — 

Which Ihey would not give to a lunatic, and the com- 
petition so strong ! 



ANCHOR SONG 

(From ' Many Inventions ') 

Heh ! Walk her round. Heave, ah heave her short 
again ! 
Over, snatch her over, there, and hold her on 
the pawl. 
Loose all sail, and brace your yards back and full — 
Ready jib to pay her off and heave short all ! 

Well, ah fare you well ; we can stay no more 
with you, my love — 
Down, set down your liquor and your girl from 
off your knee ; 

For the wind has come to say : 
' You must take me while you may. 
If you 'd go to Mother Carey 
(Walk her down to Mother Carey !), 
Oh, we 're bound to Mother Carey where she 
feeds her chicks at sea ! ' 

92 



ANCHOR SONG 93 

Heh ! Walk her round. Break, aK break it out o' 
that! 
Break our starboard bower out, apeak, awash, 
and clear. 
Port — port she casts, with the harbour-roil beneath 
her foot. 
And that's the last o' bottom we shall see this 
year! 

Well, ah fare you well, for we 've got to take her 
out again — 
Take her out in ballast, riding light and cargo- 
free. 

And it s time to clear and quit 
When the hawser grips the bitt, 
So we '11 pay you with the foresheet and a 
promise from the sea ! 

Heh ! Tally on. Aft and walk away with her! 

Handsome to the cathead, now ; O talh"^ on the 
fall ! 
Stop, seize and fish, and easy on the davit-guy. 

Up, well up the fiuke of her, and inboard haul ! 



94 THE SEVEN SEAS 

Well, ah fare you well, for the' Channel wind's 
took hold of us, 
Choking down our voices as we snatch the 
gaskets free. 

And it 's blowing up for night. 
And she 's dropping light on light. 
And she 's snorting under bonnets for a breath 
of open sea. 

Wheel, full and by ; but she '11 smell her road alone 
to-night. 
Sick she is and harbour-sick — O sick to clear the 
land! 
Roll down to Brest with the old Red Ensign over 
us — 
Carry on and thrash her out with all she '11 
stand ! 

Well, ah fare you well, and it 's Ushant slams the 
door on us. 
Whirling like a windmill through the dirty scud 
to lea : 

Till the last, last flicker goes 
From the tumbling water-rows. 



ANCPIOR SONG 95 

And we 're off to Mother Carey 
(Walk her down to Mother Carey !), 
Oh, we 're bound for Mother Carey where she 
feeds her chicks at sea ! 



G 



THE LOST LEGION 

There 's a Legion that never was 'listed, 

That carries no colours or crest. 
But, split in a thousand detachments. 

Is breaking the road for the rest. 
Our fathers they left us their blessing — 

They taught us, and groomed us, and 
crammed ; 
But we 've shaken the Clubs and the Messes 

To go and find out and be damned 

(Dear boys !), 

To go and get shot and be damned. 



So some of us chivy the slaver. 
And some of us cherish the black, 

And some of us hunt on the Oil Coast, 
And some on — the Wallaby track : 

96 



THE LOST LEGION 97 

And some of us drift to Sarawak, 

And some of us drift up The Fly, 
And some share our tucker with tigers, 

And some with the gentle Masai, 

(Dear Boys !), 

Take tea with the giddy Masai. 



We've painted The Islands vermilion, 

We 've pearled on half-shares in the Bay, 
We 've shouted on seven-ounce nuggets, 

We *ve starved on a Seedeeboy's pay ; 
We 've laughed at the world as we found it, — 

Its women and cities and men — 
From Sayyid Burgash in a tantrum 

To the smoke-reddened eyes of Loben, 

(Dear boys !), 

We've a little account with Loben. 



The ends o' the Earth were our portion, 
The ocean at large was our share. 

There was never a skirmish to windward 
But the Leaderless Legion was there : 



98 THE SEVEN SEAS 

Yes_, somehow and somewhere and always 
We were first when the trouble began. 

From a lottery-row in Manila, 
To an I.D.B. race on the Pan 

(Dear boys !), 
With the Mounted Police on the Pan. 



We preach in advance of the Army, 

We skirmish ahead of the Church, 
With never a gunboat to help us 

When we 're scuppered and left in the lurch. 
But we know as the cartridges finish. 

And we 're filed on our last little shelves. 
That the Legion that never was 'listed 

Will send us as good as ourselves 

(Good men !), 

Five hundred as good as ourselves. 



Then a health (we must drink it in whispers), 
To our wholly unauthorised horde — 

To the line of our dusty foreloopers, 
The Gentlemen Rovers abroad — 



THE LOST LEGION 99 

Yes, a health to ourselves ere we scatter. 

For the steamer won't wait for the train, 
And the Legion that never was 'listed 
Goes back into quarters again ! 

'Regards ! 
Goes back under canvas again. 

Hurrah ! 
The swag and the billy again. 

Here 's how ! 
The trail and the packhorse again. 

Salue ! 
The trek and the lager again. 



THE SEA-WIFE 

There dwells a wife by the Northern Gate, 

And a wealthy wife is she ; 
She breeds a breed o' rovin' men 

And casts them over sea. 

And some are drowned in deep water, 

And some in sight o' shore, 
And word goes back to the weary wife 

And ever she sends more. 

For since that wife had gate or gear, 

Or hearth or garth or bield. 
She willed her sons to the white harvest, 

And that is a bitter yield. 

She wills her sons to the wet ploughing, 

To ride the horse of tree. 

And syne her sons come back again 

Far-spent from out the sea. 
100 



THE SEA-WIFE 101 

The good wife's sons come home again 

With little into their hands, 
But the lore of men that ha' dealt with men 

In the new and naked lands ; 

But the faith of men that ha' brothered men 

By more than easy breath. 
And the eyes o' men that ha' read wi' men 

In the open books of death. 

Rich are they, rich in wonders seen, 

But poor in the goods o' men ; 
So what they ha' got by the skin o' their teeth 

They sell for their teeth again. 

For whether they lose to the naked life 

Or win to their hearts' desire. 
They tell it all to the weary wife 

That nods beside the fire. 

Her hearth is wide to every wind 

That makes the white ash spin ; 
And tide and tide and 'tween the tides 

Her sons go out and in ; 



102 THE SEVEN SEAS 

(Out with great mirtli that do desire 

Hazard of trackless ways. 
In with content to wait their watch 

And warm before the blaze) ; 

And some return by failing light. 

And some in waking dream, 
For she hears the heels of the dripping ghosts 

That ride the rough roof-beam. 

Home, they come home from all the ports. 

The living and the dead ; 
The good wife's sons come home again 

For her blessing on their head ! 



HYMN BEFORE ACTION 

The earth is full of anjTer, 

The seas are dark with wrath. 
The Nations in their harness 

Go up against our path : 
Ere yet we loose the legions —  

Ere yet we draw the blade, 
Jehovah of the Thunders, 

Lord God of Battles, aid ! 



High lust and froward bearing. 

Proud heart, rebellious brow — 
Deaf ear and soul uncaring. 

We seek Thy mercy now ! 
The sinner that forswore Thee, 

Thj fool that passed Thee by. 
Our times are known before Thee— 

Lord, grant us strength to die ! 

103 



104 THE SEVEN SEAS 

For those who kneel beside us 

At altars not Thme own. 
Who lack the lights that guide us, 

Lord, let their faith atone. 
If wrong we did to call them, 

By honour bound they came ; 
Let not Thy Wrath befall them, 

But deal to us the blame. 



From panic, pride, and terror. 

Revenge that knows no rein. 
Light haste and lawless error, 

Protect us yet again. 
Cloak Thou our undeserving, 

Make firm the shuddering breath, 
In silence and unswerving 

To taste Thy lesser death ! 



Ah, Mary pierced with sorrow. 
Remember, reach and save 

The soul that comes to-morrow 
Before the God that gave ! 



HYMN BEFORE ACTION 105 

Since each was born of woman, 

For each at utter need — 
True comrade and true foeman — 

Madonna, intercede ! 



E'en now their vanguard gathers. 

E'en now we face the fray — 
As Thou didst help our fathers. 

Help Thou our host to-day ! 
Fulfilled of signs and wonders. 

In life, in death made clear — 
Jehovah of the Thunders, 

Lord God of Battles, hear ! 



TO THE TRUE ROMANCE 

{From 'Many Inventions.') 

Thy face is far from this our war, 

Our call and counter-crij, 
I shall not find Thee quick and kind, 

Nor know Thee till I die. 
Enough for me in dreams to see 

And touch Thy garments' hem : 
Thy feet have trod, so near to God 

I may not follow them. 



Through wantonness if men profess 
They weary of Thy pa 'ts, 

E'en let them die at blasphemy 
And perish with their arts ; 

106 



TO THE TRUE ROMANCE 107 

But we that love, but we that prove 

Thine excellence august. 
While we adore discover more 

Thee perfect, wise, and just. 



Since spoken word Man's Spirit stirred 

Beyond his belly-need. 
What is is Thine of fair design 

In thought and craft and deed ; 
Each stroke aright of toil and fight. 

That was and that shall be. 
And hope too high, wherefore we die. 

Has birth and worth in Thee, 



Who holds by Thee hath Heaven in fee 

To gild his dross thereby. 
And knowledge sure that he endure 

A child until he die — 
For to make plain that man's disdain 

Is but new Beauty's birth — 
For to possess in loneliness 

The joy of all the earth. 



108 THE SEVEN SEAS 

As Thou didst teach all lovers speech 

And Life all mystery, 
So shall Thou rule by every school 

Till love and longing die. 
Who wast or yet the Lights were set, 

A whisper in the Void, 
Who shalt be sung through planets young 

When this is clean destroyed. 



Beyond the bounds our staring rounds. 

Across the pressing dark, 
The children wise of outer skies 

Look hitherward and mark 
A light that shifts, a glare that drifts. 

Rekindling thus and thus. 
Not all forlorn, for Thou hast borne 

Strange tales to them of us. 



Time hath no tide but must abide 

The servant of Thy will ; 
Tide hath no time, for to Thy rhyme 

The ranging stars stand still — 



TO THE TRUE ROMANCE 109 

Regent of spheres that lock our fears 

Our hopes invisible, 
Oh 'twas certes at Thy decrees 

We fashioned Heaven and Hell ! 



Pure Wisdom hath no certain path 

That lacks thy morning-eyne, 
And captains bold by Thee controlled 

Most like to Gods design ; 
Thou art the Voice to kingly boys 

To lift them through the fight, 
And Comfortress of Unsuccess, 

To give the dead good-night — 



A veil to draw 'twixt God His Law 

And Man's infii-mity, 
A shadow kind to dumb and blind 

The shambles where we die ; 
A rule to trick th' arithmetic 

Too base of leaguing odds^ 
The spur of trust, the curb of lust. 

Thou handmaid of the Gods ! 



110 THE SEVEN SEAS 

O Charity, all patiently 

Abiding wrack and scaith ! 
O Faith, that meets ten thousand cheats 

Yet drops no jot of faith ! 
Devil and brute Thou dost transmute 

To higher, lordlier show, 
Who art in sooth that lovely Truth 

The careless angels know ! 



Thy face is far from this our war, 
Our call and counter-cry, 

I may not find Thee quick and kind, 
Nor know Thee till I die. 



Yet may I look with heart 7mshook 

On blow brought home or missed- 
Yet may I hear with equal ear 

The clarions down the List ; 
Yet set my lance above miscliance 

And rida the bartiere — 
Oh, hit or miss, liow little 'tis. 

My Lady is not there ! 



THE FLOWERS 

' To our private taste, there h always something a little 
exotic, almost artificial, in songs which, under an English 
aspect and dress, are yet so manifestly the product of other 
skies. They affect us like translations ; the very fauna and 
flora are alien, remote; the dog's-tooth violet is but an ill 
substitute for the rathe primrose, nor can we ever believe 
that the wood-robin sings as sweetly in April as the English 

thrush. ' THE ATHEN^Ufll. 

Buy my English posies ! 

Kent and Surrey may — 
Violets of the Undercliff 

Wet with Chaiinel spray ; 
Cowslips from a Devoft combe — 

Midland furze afire — 
Buy my English posies 

Ajid I'll sell your heart's desire ! 

Buy my English posies ! 

You that scorn the May, 
Won't you greet a friend from home 

Half the world away ? 

H 111 



112 THE SEVEN SEAS 

Green against the draggled drift, 

Faint and frail and first — 
Buy my Northern blood-root 

And I '11 know where you were nursed : 
Robin down the logging-road whistles, ' Come to 

me !' 
Spring has found the maple-grove, the sap is run- 
ning free ; 
All the winds of Canada call the ploughing-rain. 
Take the flower and turn the hour, and kiss your 
love again ! 



Buy my English posies ! 

Here 's to match your need — 
Buy a tuft of royal heath. 

Buy a bunch of weed 
White as sand of Muysenberg 

Spun before the gale — 
Buy my heath and lilies 

And I '11 tell you whence you hail ! 
Under hot Constantia broad the vineyards lie — 
Throned and thorned the aching berg props the 
speckless sky — 



THE FLOWERS 113 

Slow below the Wynberg firs trails the tilted 

wain — 
Take the flower and turn the hour, and kiss your 

love again ! 

Buy my English posies ! 

You that will not turn — 
Buy my hot-wood clematis, 

Buy a frond o' fern 
Gathered where the Erskine leaps 

Down the road to Lome — 
Buy my Christmas creeper 

And I '11 say where you were born ! 
West away from Melbourne dust holidays begin ^ — 
They that mock at Paradise woo at Cora Lynn — 
Through the great South Otway gums sings the 

great South Main — 
Take the flower and turn the hour, and kiss your 
love again ! 

Buy my English posies ! 

Here 's your choice unsold ! 
Buy a blood-red myrtle-bloom, 

Buy the kowhai's gold 



114 THE SEVEN SEAS 

Flung for gift on Taupo's face. 

Sign that spring is come — 
Buy my clinging myrtle 

And I '11 give you back your home ! 
Broom behind the windy town; pollen o' the pine — 
Bell-bird in the leafy deep where the ralas twine — 
Fern above the saddle-bow, flax upon the plain — 
Take the flower and turn the hour, and kiss your 
love again ! 

Buy my English posies ! 

Ye that have your own 
Buy them for a brother's sake 

Overseas, alone. 
Weed ye trample underfoot 
Floods his heart abrim — 
Bird ye never heeded, 

Oh, she calls his dead to him ! 
Far and far our homes are set round the Seven Seas ; 
Woe for us if we forget, we that hold by these ! 
Unto each his mother-beach, bloom and bird and 

land — 
Masters of the Seven Seas, oh, love and understand 



THE LAST RHYME OF TRUE THOMAS 

The King has called for priest and cup. 

The King has taken spur and blade 
To dub True Thomas a belted knight, 

And all for the sake o' the songs he made. 

They have sought him high, they have sought him low. 
They have sought him over down and lea ; 

They have found hira by the milk-white thorn 
That guards the gates o' Faei'ie. 

'Twas bent beneath and blue above, 

Their eyes were held that they might twt see 

The Icine that grazed beneath the knowes, 
Oh, they were the Queens u Faerie ! 

' Now cease your song,' the King he said, 

'Oh, cease your song and get you dight 

To vow your vow and watch your arms. 

For I will dub you a belted knight. 

115 



11 G THE SEVEN SEAS 

' For I will give you a horse o' pride, 

Wi' blazon and spur and page and squire ; 

Wi' keep and tail and seizin and law, 
And land to hold at your desire.' 

True Thomas smiled above his harp, 
And turned his face to the naked sky, 

Where, blown before the wastrel wind. 
The thistle-down she floated by. 

' I ha' vowed my vow in another place. 

And bitter oath it was on me, 
I ha' watched my arms the lee-long night. 

Where five-score fighting men would flee. 

' My lance is tipped o' the hammered flame, 
My shield is beat o' the moonlight cold ; 

And I ,von my spurs in the Middle World, 
A thousand fathom beneath the mould. 

' And what should I make wi' a horse o' pride. 
And what should I make wi' a sword so brown. 

But spill the rings o' the Gentle Folk 
And flyte my kin in the Fairy Town ? 



THE LAST RHYME OF TRUE THOMAS 117 

' And what should I make wi' blazon and belt, 
Wi* keep and tail and seizin and fee, 

And what should I do wi' page and squire 
That am a king in ray own countrie ? 

* For I send east and I send west, 

And I send far as my will may flee, 
By dawn and dusk and the drinking rain, 
And syne my Sendings return to me. 

' They come wi' news of the groanin' earth. 
They come wi' news o tne roarin' sea, 

Wi' word of Spirit and Ghost and Flech, 
And man, that 's mazed among the three.' 

The King he bit his nether lip. 

And smote his hand upon his knee : 

* By the faith o' my soul, True Thomas,' he said, 

' Ye waste no wit in courtesie ! 

* As I desire, unto my pride. 

Can I make Earls by three and three. 
To run before and ride behind 
And serve the sons o' my body.' 



118 THE SEVEN SEAS 

'And what cai*e I for your row-foot earls. 

Or all the sons o' your body ? 
Before they win to the Pride o' Name, 

I trow they all ask leave o' me. 

' For I make Honour wi' muckle mouth, 
As I make Shame wi' mincin' feet. 

To sing wi' the priests at the market-cross. 
Or run wi' the dogs in the naked street. 

' And some they give me the good red gold. 
And some they give me the white money, 

And some they give me a clout o' meal. 
For they be people o' low degree. 

' And the song I sing for the counted gold 
The same I sing for the white money. 

But best I sing for the clout o' meal 
That simple people given me.' 

The King cast down a silver groat, 

A silver groat o' Scots money, 
' If I come wi' a poor man's dole,' he said, 

' True Thomas, will ye harp to me ? ' 



THE LAST RHYME OF TRUE THOMAS 119 

' Whenas I harp to the children small, 
They press me close on either hand. 

And who are you/ True Thomas said, 

' That you should ride while they must stand ? 

' Light down, light down from yoiu- horse o' pride, 

I trow ye talk too loud and hie. 
And I will make you a triple word, 

And syne, if ye dare, ye shall 'noble me.' 

He has lighted down from his horse o' pride, 
And set his back against the stone. 

* Now guard you well,' True Thomas said, 

' Ere I rax your heart from your breast-bone ! ' 

True Thomas played upon his harp, 

The fairy harp that couldna lee, 
And the first least word the proud King heard. 

It harpit the salt tear out o' his e'e. 

' Oh, I see the love that I lost long syne, 
I touch the hope that I may not see. 

And all that I did o' hidden shame. 
Like little snakes they hiss at me. 



120 THE SEVEN SEAS 

* The sun is lost at noon — at noon ! ' 

The dread o' doom has grippit me. 
True ThomaSj hide me under your cloak, 
God wot, I 'm little fit to dee ! ' 

'Twas bent beneath and blice above — 
'Twas ojicn field and running Jlood — 

Where, hot on heath and dyke and wall, 
The high sun warmed the adders brood. 

' Lie down, lie down/ True Thomas said. 

' The God shall judge when all is done. 
But I will bring you a better word 

And lift the cloud that I laid on,' 

True Thomas played upon his harp. 
That birled and brattled to his hand, 

And the next least word True Thomas made. 
It garred the King take horse and brand, 

* Oh, I hear the tread o' the fighting-men, 

I see the sun on splent and spear. 
I mark the arrow outen the fern 
That flies so low and sings so clear ! 



THE LAST RHYME OF TRUE THOMAS 121 

' Advance my standards to that war. 

And bid my good knights prick and ride ; 

The gled shall watch as fierce a fight 
As e'er was fought on the Border side !' 

^Twas bent beneath mid blue above, 

' Twas nodding grass and naked shy, 
Where, ringing up the wastrel wind, 

The eyass stooped upon the pye. 

True Thomas sighed above his harp, 

And turned the song on the midmost string ; 

And the last least word True Thomas made. 
He harpit his dead youth back to the King. 

* Now I am prince, and I do well 

To love my love withouten fear ; 
To walk wi' man in fellowship, 

And breathe my horse behind the deer. 

* My hounds they bay unto the death, 

The buck has couched beyond the burn. 
My love she waits at her window 
To wash my hands when I return. 



122 THE SEVEN SEAS 

' For that I live am I content 

(Oh ! I have seen my true love's eyes) 

To stand \vi' Adam in Eden-slade, 
And run in the woods o' Paradise ! ' 

'Tivas nodding grass and naked sky, 
' Ttvas blue above and bent below, 

Where, checked against the wastrel wind. 
The red deer belled to call the doe. 

True Thomas laid his harp away, 
And louted low at the saddle-side ; 

He has taken stirrup and hauden rein, 
And set the King on his horse o' pride, 

' Sleep ye or wake,' True Thomas said, 
' That sit so still, that muse so long ; 

Sleep ye or wake ? — till the latter sleep 
I trow ye '11 not forget my song. 

* I ha' harpit a shadow out o' the sun 
To stand before your face and cry ; 

I ha' armed the earth beneath your heel. 
And over your head I ha' dusked the sky. 



THE LAST RHYME OF TRUE THOMAS 123 

' I ha' harpit ye up to the throne o' God, 
I ha' harpit your midmost soul in three ; 

I ha' harpit ye down to the Hinges o' Hell, 
And — ye — would — make — a Knight o' me ! ' 



IN THE NEOLITHIC AGE 

In the Neolithic Age savage warfare did I 
wage 
For food and fame and two-toed horses' 
pelt; 
I was singer to my clan in that dim, red Dawn of 
Man, 
And I sang of all we fought and feared and 
felt. 



Yea, I sang as now I sing, when the Prehistoric 
spring 
Made the piled Biscayan ice-pack split and 
shove ; 
And the troll and gnome and dwerg, and the Gods 
of Cliff and Berg 
Were about me and beneath me and above. 

124 



IN THE NEOLITHIC vVGE 125 

But a rival, of Solutre, told the tribe iny style was 
outre— 
'Neath a hammer, grooved of dolomite, he fell. 
And I left my views on Art, barbed and tanged, 
below the heart 
Of a mammothistic etcher at Grenelle. 



Then I stripped them, scalp from skull, and my 
hunting dogs fed full. 
And their teeth I threaded neatly on a thong ; 
And I wiped my mouth and said, ' It is well that 
they are dead, 
For I know my work is right and theirs Avas 
wrong.' 



But my Totem saw the shame ; from his ridgepole 
shrine he came, 
And he told me in a vision of the night : — 
* There are nine and sixty ways of constructing tribal 
lays. 
And every single one of them is right ! ' 



126 THE SEVEN SEAS 

Then the silence closed upon me till They put new 
clothing on me 
Of whiter, weaker flesh and bone more frail ; 
And I stepped beneath Time's finger, once again a 
tribal singer 
[And a minor poet certified by Tr — 11]. 



Still they skirmish to and fro, men my messmates 
on the snow, 
When we headed off the aurochs turn for 
turn ; 
When the rich Allobrogenses never kept amanu- 
enses. 
And our only plots were piled in lakes at 
Berne. 

Still a cultured Christian age sees us scuffle, squeak, 
and rage. 
Still we pinch and slap and jabber, scratch and 
dirk ; 
Still we let our business slide— as we dropped the 
half-dressed hide — 
To show a fellow-savage how to work. 



IN THE NEOLITHIC AGE 127 

Still the world is wondrous large, — seven seas from 
marge to marge^ — 
And it holds a vast of various kinds of man ; 
And the wildest dreams of Kew are the facts of 
Khatmandhu, 
And the crimes of Clapham chaste in Martaban. 



Here 's my wisdom for your use, as I learned it when 
the moose 
And the reindeer roared where Paris roars to- 
night : — 
There are nine and sixty ways of constructing tribal 
lays. 
And — every — single — one — of — them— is— right' 



THE STORY OF UNG 

Once, on a glittering ice-field, ages and ages ago, 
Ung, a maker of pictures, fashioned an image of 

snow. 
Fashioned the form of a tribesman — gaily he 

whistled and sung. 
Working the snow with his fingers. Bead ye the 

Story of Ung ! 



Pleased was his tribe with that image — came in 

their hundreds to scan — 
Handled it, smelt it, and grunted : ' Verily, this is a 

man ! 
Thus do we carry our lances — thus is a war-belt 

slung. 
Lo ! it is even as we are. Glory and honour to 

Ung!' 

128 



THE STORY OF UNG 129 

Later he pictured an aurochs — later he pictured a 
bear — 

Pictured the sabre-tooth tiger dragging a man to 
his lair — 

Pictured the mountainous mammoth, hairy, ab- 
horrent, alone — 

Out of the love that he bore them, scribing them 
clearly on bone. 



Swift came the tribe to behold them, peering and 

pushing and still- 
Men of the berg-battered beaches, men of the 

boulder-hatched hill — 
Hunter and fishers and trappers, presently whisper- 
ing low : 

' Yea, they are like — and it may be But how 

does the Picture-man know ? 



' Ung — hath he slept with the Aurochs — watched 

where the Mastodon roam ? 
Spoke on the ice with the Bow-head — followed the 

Sabre-tooth home ? 



]30 THE SEVEN SEAS 

Nay ! These are toys of his fancy ! If he have 

cheated us so. 
How is there truth in his image — the man that he 

fashioned of snow?' 



Wroth was that maker of pictures — hotly he an- 
swered the call : 

' Hunters and fishers and trappers, children and 
fools are ye all ! 

Look at the beasts when ye hunt them ! ' Swift 
from the tumult he broke, 

Ran to the cave of his father and told him the 
shame that they spoke. 



And the father of Ung gave answer, that was old 

and wise in the craft. 
Maker of pictures aforetime, he leaned on his lance 

and laughed : 
' If they could see as thou seest they would do 

what thou hast done. 
And each man would make him a picture, and — 

what would become of my son ? 



THE STORY OF UNG 181 

' There would be no pelts of the reindeer, flung 

down at thy cave for a gift, 
Nor dole of the oily timber that comes on the 

Baltic drift ; 
No store of well-drilled needles, nor ouches of 

amber pale ; 
No new-cut tongues of the bison, nor meat of the 

stranded whale. 



' Thou hast not toiled at the fishing when the 

soddeii trammels freeze. 
Nor worked the war-boats outward thi-ouffh the 

rush of the rock-staked seas. 
Yet they bring thee fish and plunder — full meal 

and an easy bed — 
And all for the sake of thy pictures.' And Ung 

held down his head. 



' Thou hast not stood to the Aurochs when the 

red snow reeks of the fight ; 
Men have no time at the houghing to count his 

curls aright. 



132 THE SEVEN SEAS 

And the heart of the hairy Mammoth, thou sayest, 

they do not see, 
Yet they save it whole from the beaches and broil 

the best for thee. 



'And now do they press to thy pictures, with 

opened mouth and eye. 
And a little gift in the doorway, and the praise no 

gift can buy : 
But — sure they have doubted thy pictures, and that 

is a grievous stain — 
Son that can see so clearly, return them their gifts 

again ! ' 



And Ung looked down at his deerskins — their 

broad shell-tasselled bands — 
And Ung drew downward his mitten and looked 

at his naked hands ; 
And he gloveu himself and departed, and he heard 

his father, behind : 
'Son that can see so clearly, rejoice that thy ti'ibe 

is blind ! ' 



THE STORY OF UNCI 133 

Straight on the glittering ice-field, by the caves of 

the lost Dordogne, 
Ung, a maker cf pictures, fell to his scribing on 

bone 
Even to mammoth editions. Gaily he whistled 

and sung, 
Blessing his tribe for their blindness. Heed ye the 

Slorij of Ung ! 



THE THREE-DECKER 

' The three-volume novel in extinct.' 

Full thirty foot she towered from waterline to 

rail. 
It cost a watch to steer her, and a week to shorten 

sail; 
But, spite all modei-n notions, I found her first and 

best — - 
The only certain packet for the Islands of the Blest. 

Fair held the breeze behind us — 'twas warm with 

lovers' prayers. 
We 'd stolen wills for ballast and a crew of missinsr 

heirs. 
They shipped as Able Bastards till the Wicked 

Nurse confessed. 
And they worked the old three-decker to the 

Islands of the Blest. 

134 



THE THREE-DECKER 135 

By ways no gaze could follow, a course unspoiled of 

cook. 
Per Fancy, fleetest in man, our titled berths we took 
With maids of matchless beauty and parentage 

unguessed. 
And a Church of England parson for the Islands of 

the Blest. 



We asked no social questions — we pumped no 

hidden shame — 
We never talked obstetrics when the Little Stranger 

came : 
We left the Lord in Heaven, we left the fiends in 

Hell. 
We weren't exactly Yussufs, but — Zuleika didn't 

tell. 



No moral doubt assailed us, so when the port we 

neared, 
The villain had his flogging at the gangway, and 

we cheered. 



136 THE SEVEN SEAS 

'Twas fiddle in the forc's'le — 'twas garlands on the 

mast, 
For every one got marr."ed, and I went ashore at 

last. 



I left 'em all in couples akissing on the decks. 

I left the lovers loving and the parents signing 

cheques. 
In endless English comfort by county -folk 

caressed, 
I left the old three-decker at the Islands of the 

Blest ! 



That route is barred to steamers : you '11 never lift 



agani 



Our purple-painted headlands or the lordly keeps 

of Spain. 
They're just beyond your skyline, howe'er so far 

you cruise 
In a ram-you-damn-you liner with a brace of 

bucking screws. 



THE THREE-DECKER 137 

Swing round your aching search-light — 'twill show 
no haven's peace. 

Ay, blow your shrieking sirens to the deaf, grey- 
bearded seas ! 

Boom out the dripping oil-bags to skin the deep's 
unrest — 

And you aren't one knot the nearer to the Islands 
of the Blest ! 



But when you're threshing, crippled, with broken 

bridge and rail, 
At a drogue of dead convictions to hold you head 

to gale. 
Calm as the Flying Dutchman, from truck to taff- 

rail dressed. 
You'll see the old three-decker for the Islands of 

the Blest. 



You'll see her tieiung canvas in sheeted silver 

spread ; 
You'll hear the long-drawn thunder 'neath her 

leaping figure-head ; 



138 THE SEVEN SEAS 

While far, so far above yoUj her tall poop-lanterus 

shme 
Unvexed by wind or weather like the candles 

round a shrine ! 



Hull down— hull down and under — she dwindles 

to a speck. 
With noise of pleasant music and dancing on her 

deck. 
All 's well — all s well aboard her — she 's left you 

far behind, 
With a scent of old-world roses through the fog 

that ties you blind. 



Her crew are babes or madmen ? Her port is all 

to make ? 
You 're manned by Truth and Science, and you 

steam for steaming' s sake ? 
Well, tinker up your engines — you know your 

business best — 
She's taking tired people to the Islands of the 

Blest ! 



AN AMERICAN 

The American Spirit speaks : 

' If the Led Striker call it a strike, 
Or the papers call it a war. 

They know not much what I am like, 
Nor what he is, my Avatar.' 

Through many roads, by me possessed, 
He shambles forth in cosmic guise ; 

He is the Jester and the Jest, 
And he the Text himself applies. 

The Celt is in his heart and hand, 
The Gaul is in his brain and nerve ; 

Where, cosmopolitanly planned, 

He guards the Redskin's dry reserve. 

His easy unswept hearth he lends 
From Labrador to Guadeloupe ; 

Till, elbowed out by sloven friends. 
He camps, at sufferance, on the stoop. 

139 



140 THE SEVEN SEAS 

Calm-eyed he scoffs at sword and crown, 
Or panic-blinded stabs and slays : 

Blatant he bids the world bow down, 
Or cringing begs a crust of praise ; 

Or, sombre-drunk, at mine and mart. 
He dubs his dreary brethren Kings. 

His hands are black with blood — his heart 
Leaps, as a babe's, at little things. 

But, through the shift of mood and mood, 
Mine ancient humour saves him whole — 

The cynic devil in his blood 

That bids him mock his hurrying soul ; 

That bids him flout the Law he makes, 
That bids him make the Law he flouts. 

Till, dazed by many doubts, he wakes 

The drumming guns that — have no doubts ,• 

That checks him foolish-hot and fond. 
That chuckles through his deepest ire. 

That gilds the slough of his despond 
But dims the goal of his desire ; 



AN AMERICAN 141 

Inopportune, shrill-accented , 

The acrid Asiatic mu'th 
That leaves him, careless 'mid his dead, 

The scandal of the elder earth. 

How shall he clear himself, how reach 
Your bar or weighed defence prefer ? 

A brother hedged with alien speech 
And lacking all interpreter. 

Which knowledge vexes him a space ; 

But while Reproof around him rings, 
He turns a keen untroubled face 

Home, to the instant need of things. 

Enslaved, illogical, elate, 

He greets th' embarrassed Gods, nor fears 
To shake the iron hand of Fate 

Or match with Destiny for beers. 

Lo, imperturbable he rules, 

Unkempt, disreputable, vast — 
And, in the teeth of all the schools 

I — I shall save him at the last ! 



THE MARY GLOSTER 

I 'vE paid for your sickest fancies ; I 've humoured 

your crackedest whim — 
Dick, it 's your daddy, dying ; you 've got to listen 

to him ! 
Good for a fortnight, am I ? The doctor told you ? 

He Hed. 
I shall go under by morning, and Put that 

nurse outside. 
'Never seen death yet, Dickie ? Well, now is your 

time to learn, 
And you '11 wish you held my record before it 

comes to your turn. 
Not counting the Line and the Foundry, the yards 

and the village, too, 
I 've made myself and a million ; but I 'm damned 

if I made you. 

142 



THE MARV GLOSTER 143 

Master at two-and- twenty, and married at twenty- 
three — 
Ten thousand men on the pay-roll, and forty 

freighters at sea ! 
Fifty years between 'ern, and every year of it 

fight, 
And now 1 'm Sir Anthony Gloster, dying, a 

baronite : 
For I lunched with his Royal 'Ighness — what was 

it the papers a-had ? 
'Not least of our merchant-princes.' Dickie, that's 

me, your dad ! 
/ didn't begin with askings. / took my job and 

I stuck ; 
And I took the chances they wouldn't, an' now 

they 're calling it luck. 
Lord, Avhat boats I 've handled — rotten and leaky 

and old ! 
Ran 'em, or — opened the bilge-cock, precisely as I 

was told. 
Grub that 'ud bind you crazy, and crews that 'ud 

turn you grey. 
And a big fat lump of insurance to cover the risk 

on the way. 



144 THE SEVEN SEAS 

The others they dursu't do it ; they said they vakied 

their life 
(They've served me since as skippei's). / went, 

and I took my wife. 
Over the woi'ld I drove 'em, married at twenty- 
three, 
And your mother saving the money and making a 

man of me, 
/ was content to be master, but she said there was 

better behind ; 
She took the chances I wouldn't, and I followed 

your mother blind. 
She egged me to borrow the money, an' she helped 

me to clear the loan, 
When we bought half shares in a cheap 'un and 

hoisted a flag of our own. 
Patching and coaling on credit, and living the Lord 

knew how, 
We started the Red Ox freighters — we've eight- 

and-thirty now. 
And those were the days of clippers, and the 

freights were clipper-freights. 
And we knew we were making our fortune, but she 

died in Macassar Straits — 



THE MARY (JLOSTER 145 

By the Little Paternosters, as you come to the 

Union Bank — 
And we dropped her in fourteen fathom ; I pricked 

it off where she sank. 
Owners we were, full owners, and the boat was 

christened for her. 
And she died in the Mary (iloster. My heart, how- 
young we were ! 
So I went on a spree round Java and well-nigh ran 

her ashore, 
But your mother came and warned me and I 

wouldn't liquor no more : 
Strict I stuck to my business, afraid to stop or I 'd 

think. 
Saving the money (she warned me), and letting the 

other men drink. 
And I met M'Cullough in London (I 'd turned five 

'undred then), 
And 'tween us we started the Foundry — three 

forges and twenty men : 
Cheap repairs for the cheap 'uns. It j)aid, and the 

business grew, 
For I bought me ^ steam-lathe patent, and that 

was a gold mine too. 



14(5 THE SEVEN SEAS 

' Cheaper to build 'em than buy 'em/ / said, but 

M'Cullough he shied, 
And we wasted a year in talking before we moved 

to the Clyde. 
And the Lines Avere all beginning, and we all of us 

started fair, 
Building our engines like houses and staying the 

boilers square. 
But M'CuUough 'e wanted cabins with marble and 

maple and all, 
And Brussels an' Utrecht velvet, and baths and a 

Social Hall, 
And pipes for closets all over, and cutting the frames 

too light. 
But M'Cullough he died in the Sixties, and 

Well, I 'm dying to-night. . . . 
I knew — / knew what was coming, when we bid 

on the Bijjleet's keel — 
They piddled and piffled with iron : I 'd given my 

orders for steel ! 
Steel and the first expansions. It paid, I tell you, 

it paid. 
When we came with our nine-knot freighters and 

collared the long-run trade ! 



THE MARY GLOSTER 147 

And they asked me how I did it, and I gave 'em 

the Scripture text, 
' You keep your light so shining a httle in front o' 

the next ! ' 
They copied all they could follow, but they couldn't 

copy my mind, 
And I left 'em sweating and stealing a year and a 

half behind. 
Then came the armour-contracts, but that was 

M'Cullough's side ; 
He was alw^ays best in the Foundry, but better, 

perhaps, he died. 
I Avent through hir private papers; the notes was 

plainer than print ; 
And I 'm no fool to finish if a man '11 give me a 

hint. 
(I remember his widow was angry.) So I saw what 

the drawings meant, 
And I started the six-inch rollers, and it paid me 

sixty per cent — 
Sixty per cent ivilh failures, and more than twice we 

could do, 
And a quarter-million to credit, and I saved it all 



for 



Vf)U 



I 



148 THE SEVEN SEAS 

I thought — it doesn't matter — you seeined to favour 

your ma. 
But you 're nearer forty than thirty, and I know the 

kind you are. 
Harrer an' Trinity College ! I ought to lia' sent 

you to sea — 
But I stood you an education, an' what have you 

done for me ? 
The things I knew Avas pi'oper you wouldn't thank 

me to give, 
And the things I knew was rotten you said was the 

way to live. 
For you muddled with books and pictures, an' china 

an' etchin's an' fans. 
And your rooms at college was beastly — more like 

a whore's than a man's — 
Till you married that thin-flanked woman, as white 

and as stale as a bone. 
An' she gave you your social nonsense ; but where 's 

that kid o' your own ? 
I 've seen your carriages blocking the half o' the 

Cromwell Road, 
But never the doctor's brougham to help the missus 

unload. 



THE MARY GLOSTER 149 

(So there isn't even a grandchild, an' the Gloster 

family's done.) 
Not like your mother, she isn't. She carried her 

freight each run. 
But they died, the pore little beggars ! At sea she 

had 'em — they died. 
Only you, an' you stood it ; you haven't stood much 

beside. 
Weak, a liar, and idle, and mean as a collier's 

whelp 
Nosing for scraps in the galley. No help — my son 

was no help ! 
So he gets three 'undred thousand, in trust and the 

interest paid. 
I -wouldn't give it you, Dickie — you see, I made it 

in trade. 
You're saved from soiling your fingers, and if you 

have no child. 
It all comes back to the business. Gad, won't 

your wife be wild ! 
'Calls and calls in her carriage, her 'andkerchief up 

to 'er eye : 
'Daddy! dear daddy 's dyin' ! ' and doing her best 

to crv. 



150 thp: seven seas 

Grateful ? Oh, yes, I 'm grateful, but keep her 

away from here. 
Your mother 'ud never ha' stood 'er, and, anyhow, 

women are queer. . . . 
There 's women will say I 've married a second 

time. Not quite ! 
But give pore Aggie a hundred, and tell her your 

lawyers '11 fight. 
She was the best o' the boiling — you'll meet her 

before it ends ; 
I 'm in for a row with the mother — I '11 leave you 

settle my friends : 
For a man he must go with a woman, which women 

don't understand — 
Or the sort that say they can see it they aren't the 

marrying brand. 
But I wanted to speak o' your mother that's Lady 

Gloster still — 
I 'm going to up and see her, without it 's hurting 

the will. 
Here ! Take your hand off the bell-pull. Five 

thousand 's waiting for you. 
If you '11 only listen a minute, and do as I bid 

you do. 



THE MARY GL08TER 1.51 

They '11 try to prove me crazy, and, if you bungle, 

they can ; 
And I 've only you to trust to ! (O God, why ain't 

he a man ?) 
There 's some waste money on marbles, the same 

as M'Cullough tried — 
Marbles and mausoleums — but I call that sinful 

pride. 
There's some ship bodies for burial — we've carried 

'em, soldered and packed ; 
Down in their wills they wrote it, and nobody 

called them cracked. 
But me — I've too much money, and people might 

. . . All my fault : 
It come o' hoping for grandsons and buying that 

Wokin' vault. 
I 'm sick o' the 'ole dam' business; I 'm going back 

where I came. 
Dick, you 're the son o' my body, and you '11 take 

charge o' the same ! 
I want to lie by your mother, ten thousand mile 

away, 
And they'll want to send me to Woking; and 

that's where you'll earn your pay. 



152 THE SEVEN SEAS 

I 've thought it out on the quiet, the same as it 

ouffht to be done — 
Quiet, and decent, and proper — an' here's your 

orders, my son. 
You know the Line ? You don't, though. You 

write to the Board, and tell 
Your father's death has upset you an' you 're goin' 

to cruise for a spell, 
An' you 'd like the Mary Gloster — I 've held her 

ready for this — 
They '11 put her in working order and you '11 take 

her out as she is. 
Yes, it was money idle when I patched her and put 

her aside 
(Thank God, I can pay for my fancies !)— the boat 

where your mother died. 
By the Little Paternosters, as you come to the 

Union Bank, 
We dropped her — I think I told you — and I pricked 

it off where she sank — 
['Tiny she looked on the grating— that oily, treacly 

sea — ] 
'Hundred and eighteen East, remember, and South 

just three. 



THE MARY GLOSTER 150 

Easy bearings to carry — three South — three to the 

dot; 
But I gave M'Andrews a copy in case of dying — or 

not. 
And so you '11 write to M'Andrews, he 's Chief of 

the Maori Line ; 
They'll give him leave, if you ask 'em and say it's 

business o' mine. 
I built three boats for the Maoris, an' very Avell 

pleased chey were, 
An' I 've known Mac since the Fifties, and Mac 

knew me — and her. 
After the first stroke warned me I sent him the 

money to keep 
Against the time you 'd claim it, committin' your 

dad to the deep ; 
For you are the son o' my body, and Mac was my 

oldest friend, 
I 've never asked 'im to dinner, but he'll see it out 

to the end. 
Stiff-necked Glasgow beggar, I 've heard he 's prayed 

for my soul. 
But he couldn't lie if you paid him, and he 'd starve 

before he stole ! 



154 THE SEVEN SEAS 

He'll take the Mary in ballast — you'll find her a 

lively ship ; 
And you '11 take Sir Anthony Gloster, that goes on 

'is wedding- trip. 
Lashed in our old deck-cabin with all three port- 
holes wide. 
The kick o' the screw beneath him and the round 

blue seas outside ! 
Sir Anthony Gloster's carriage — our 'ouse-flag flyin' 

free — 
Ten thousand men on the pay-roll and forty 

freighters at sea ! 
He made himself and a million, but this world is a 

fleetin' show, 
And he '11 go to the wife of 'is bosom the same as 

he ought to go — 
By the heel of the Paternosters — there isn't a chance 

to mistake — 
And Mac '11 pay you the money as soon as the 

bubbles break ! 
Five thousand for six weeks' cruising, the stanchest 

freighter afloat. 
And Mac he'll give you your bonus the minute I 'm 

out o' the boat ! 



THE MAIIY GLOSTER 155 

He'll take you round to Macassar, and you'll come 

back alone ; 
He knows what I want o' the Mary. ... I '11 do 

what I please with my own. 
Your mother 'ud call it wasteful, but I 've seven- 

and-thirty more ; 
I '11 come in my private carriage and bid it wait at 

the door. . . . 
For my son 'e was never a credit : 'e muddled with 

books and art, 
And 'e lived on Sir Anthony's money and 'e broke 

Sir Anthony's heart. 
There isn't even a grandcliild, and the Gloster 

family 's done — 
The only one you left me, O mother, the only 

one ! 
Harrer and Trinity College — me slavin' early an' 

late — 
An' he thinks I 'm dying crazy, and you 're in 

Macassar Strait ! 
Flesh o' my flesh, my dearie, for ever an' ever 

amen. 
That first stroke come for a warning ; 1 ought to 

ha' gone to you then. 



150 THE SEVEN SEAS 

But — cheap repairs for a cheap 'un — ^the doctors 

said I 'd do : 
Mary, why didn't you warn me ? I 've alius heeded 

to you, 
Excep' — ^I know — about women; but you are a 

spirit now ; 
An', wife, they was only women, and I was a man. 

That 's how. 
An' a man 'e must go with a woman, as you could 

not understand ; 
But I never talked 'em secrets. I paid 'em out o' 

hand. 
Thank Gawd, I can pay for my fancies ! Now 

what 's five thousand to me. 
For a berth off the Paternosters in the haven where 

I would be ? 
/ believe in the Resurrection, if I read my Bible 

plain, 
But I wouldn't trust 'em at Wokin' ; we 're safer at 

sea again. 
For the heart it shall go with the treasure — go 

down to the sea in ships. 
I 'm sick of the hii*ed women — I 'II kiss my girl on 

her lips ! 



THE xMARY GLOSTEll 157 

I'll be content with my fountain, I'll drink from my 

own well. 
And the wife of my youth shall charm me — an' the 

rest can go to Hell ! 
(Dickie, he will, that's certain.) I'll lie in our 

standin'-bed, 
An' Mac '11 take her in ballast — an' she trims best 

by the head. . , . 
Down by the head an' sinkin', her fires are drawn 

and cold, 
And the water's splashin' hollow on the skin of 

the empty hold — 
Churning an' choking and chuckling, quiet and 

scummy and dark — 
Full to her lower hatches and risin' steady. 

Hark! 
That was the after-bulkhead. . . . She's flooded 

from stem to stern. . . . 
Never seen death yet, Dickie.^ . . . Well, now is 

your time to learn ! 



SESTINA OF THE TRAMP-ROYAL 

Speakin' in general, I ave tried 'em all, 
The appy roads that take you o'er the world. 
Speakin' in general, I ave found them good 
For such as cannot use one bed too long. 
But must get 'ence, the same as I 'ave done. 
An' go observin' matters till they die. 

What do it matter where or 'ow we die. 

So long as we 've our 'ealth to watch it all — 

The different ways that different things are done, 

An' men an' women lovin' in this world — 

Takin' our chances as they come along. 

An' when they ain't, pretendin' they are good } 

In cash or credit — no, it aren't no good ; 
You 'ave to 'ave the 'abit or you 'd die. 
Unless you lived your life but one day long, 
Nor didn't prophesy nor fret at all. 
But drew your tucker some'ow from the world, 
An' never bothered what you might ha' done. 

lo3 



SESTINA OF THE TRAMP-ROYAL 159 

But, Gawd, what things are they I 'aven't done ? 
I 've turned my 'and to most, an' turned it good. 
In various situations round the world — 
For 'im that doth not work must surely die ; 
But that 's no reason man should labour all 
'Is life on one same shift; life's none so long. 

Therefore, from job to job I 've moved along. 
Pay couldn't 'old me when my time was done. 
For something in my 'ead upset me all. 
Till I 'ad dropped whatever 'twas for good, 
An', out at sea, be'eld the dock-lights die. 
An' met my mate — the wind that tramps the world ! 

It 's like a book, I think, this bloomin' world. 
Which you can read and care for just so long, 
But presently you feel that you will die 
Unless you get the page you 're readin' done, 
An' turn another — likely not so good ; 
But what you 're after is to turn 'em all. 

Gawd bless this world ! Whatever she 'ath done — 
Excep' when awful long — I 've found it good. 
So write, before I die, ' 'E liked it all ! ' 



BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 



When 'Omer smote 'is hloomhi lyre, 
He 'd 'eard men sing by land an sea ; 

An what he thought 'e might require, 
'E went an took — the same as me ! 

The market-girls an fishermen. 
The shepherds an the sailors, too. 

They 'eard old songs turn up again, 
But kep' it quiet — same as you ! 

They knew 'e stole ; 'e knew they knowed. 

They didn't tell, nor make a fuss, 
But winked at 'Omer down the road, 

An' 'e winked back — the same us ns ! 



162 



'BACK TO THE ARMY AGAIN' 

I 'm 'ere in a ticky ulster an' a broken billycock 'at, 
A-layin' on to the sergeant I don't know a gun 

from a bat ; 
My shirt 's doin' duty for jacket, my sock 's stickin' 

out o' my boots, 
An' I 'm learnin' the damned old goose-step along 

o' the new recruits ! 

Back to the Army again, sergeant. 

Back to the Army again. 
Don't look so 'ard, for I 'aven't no card, 

I 'm back to the Army again ! 

I done my six years' service. 'Er Majesty sez : 

' Good day — 
You '11 please to come when you 're rung for, an' 

'ere 's your 'ole back-pay ; 

168 



164 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 

An' four-pence a day for baccy — an' bloomin' 

gen'rous, too ; 
An' now you can make your fortune — the same as 

your orf cers do.' 

Back to the Army again, sergeant, 

Back to the Army again ; 
'Ow did I learn to do right-about turn? 

I 'm back to the Array again ! 



A man o' four-an'-twenty that 'asn't learned of a 

trade — 
Beside ' Reserve ' agin' him — 'e 'd better be never 

made. 
I tried my luck for a quarter, an' that was enough 

for me, 
An' I thought of 'Er Majesty's barricks, an' I 

thought I 'd go an' see. 

Back to the Army again, sergeant. 

Back to the Army again ; 
'Tisn't my fault if I dress when I 'alt — 

I 'm back to the Army again ! 



' BACK TO THE ARMY AGAIN ' 165 

The sergeant arst no questions, but 'e winked the 

other eye, 
'E sez to me, ' 'Shun ! ' an' I shunted, the same as 

in days gone by ; 
For 'e saw the set o' my shoulders, an' I couldn't 

'elp 'oldin' straight 
When me an' the other rookies come under the 

barrick gate. 

Back to the Army again, sergeant. 

Back to the Army again ; 
'Oo would ha' thought I could carry an' port r 

I 'm back to the Army again ! 



I took my bath, an' I wallered — for, Gawd, I needed 

it so ! 
1 smelt the smell o' the barricks, I 'eard the bugles 



go. 



I 'eard the feet on the gravel — the feet o' the men 

what drill — 
An' I sez to my flutterin' 'eart-strings, I sez to 'em, 

' Peace, be still ! ' 



166 BARIlACK-ROOiAI BALLADS 

Back to the Army again, sergeant, 

Back to the Army again ; 
'Oo said I knew when the Jumner was due ? 

I 'm back to the Army again ! 

I carried my slops to the tailor; I sez to 'im, 'None 

o' your lip ! 
You tight 'em over the shoulders, an' loose 'em 

over the 'ip, 
For the set o' the tunic 's 'orrid.' An' 'e sez to me, 

' Strike me dead. 
But I thought you was used to the business ! ' an' 

so 'e done what I said. 

Back to the Army again, sergeant. 

Back to the Army again. 
Rather too free with my fancies t Wot — me .'' 

I 'm back to the Army again ! 

Next week I '11 'ave 'em fitted ; I '11 buy me a 

swagger-cane ; 
They'll let me free o' the barricks to walk on the 

Hoe again 



'BACK TO THE ARMY AGAIN' 167 

In the name o' William Parsons, that used to be 

Edward Clay, 
An' — any pore beggar that wants it can draw my 

fourpence a day ! 

Back to the Army again, sergeant, 

Back to the Army again : 
Out o' the cold an' the rain, sergeant, 

Out o' the cold an' the rain. 

'Oo 's there ? 
A man that 's too good to be lost you, 

A man that is 'andled an' made — 
A man that will pay what 'e cost you 

In learnin' the others their trade — parade ! 
You 're droppin' the pick o' the Army 

Because you don't 'elp 'em remain, 
But drives 'em to cheat to get out o' the street 

An' back to the Army again ! 



'BIRDS OF PREY' MARCH 

March ! The mud is cakiu' good about our trousies. 

Front ! — eyes front, an' watch the Colour-casin's 
drip. 
Front ! The faces of the women in the 'oases 

Ain't the kind o' things to take aboard the ship. 

Cheer ! An we'll never march to viclon/. 

Cheer ! An ive'll never live to 'ear the cannon roar ! 

The Large Birds o' Prey 

They will cany lis away, 
An you 'II never see your soldiers any more ! 

Wheel ! Oh, keep your touch ; we 're goin' round 

a corner. 

Time ! — mark time, an' let the men be'ind us close. 

Lord ! the transport 's full, an' 'alf our lot not on 'er— 

Cheer, O cheer ! We 're going off where no one 

knows. 

168 



' BIRDS OF rilEY ' MARCH 169 

March ! The Devil 's none so black as 'e is 
painted ! 
Cheer ! We '11 'ave some fun before we 're put 
away. 
'Alt, an' 'and 'er out — a woman's gone and fainted! 
Cheer! Get on— Gawd 'elp the married men 
to-day ! 

Hoi ! Come u}), you 'ungry beggars, to yer sorrow. 
('Ear them say they want their tea, an' want it 
quick !) 
You won't have no mind for slingers, not to-mor- 
row — 
No ; you '11 put the 'tween-decks stove out, bein' 
sick ! 



'Alt ! The married kit 'as all to go before us ! 
'Course it's blocked the bloomin' gangway up 
again ! 
Cheer, O cheer the 'Orse Guards watchin' tender 
o'er us, 
Keepin' us since eight this moriiin' in the rain ! 



170 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 

Stuck in 'eavy marchin' -order, sopped and wring- 
in' — 

Sick, before our time to watch 'er 'eave an' fall, 
'Ere's your appy 'ome at last, an' stop your singin'. 

'Alt ! Fall in along the troop-deck ! Silence all ! 

Cheer ! Fur we 'II never live to see tio bloomhi victor ij ! 
Cheer ! An tve 'II never live to 'ear the cannon roar! 
{One cheer more /) 

The jackal an the kite 
'Ave an 'ealthy appetite, 
An you'll never see your soldiers any more! (Ip! 
Urroar /) 

The eagle an' the crow 
They are waitin ever so, 
An you'll never see your soldiers any more! (Ip! 
Urroar /) 

Yes, the Large Birds o' Prey 
They will carry us away, 
An' you'll never see your soldiers any more ! 



'SOLDIER AN' SAILOR TOO' 

As I was spittin' into the Ditch aboard o' the Croco- 
dile, 
I seed a man on a man-o'-war got up in the Reg'lars' 

style, 
'E was scrapin' the paint from off of 'er plates, an' 

I sez to 'im, ' 'Oo are you ? ' 
Sez 'e, ' I 'm a Jolly — 'Er Majesty's Jolly — soldier 

an' sailor too ! ' 
Now 'is work begins by Gawd knows when, and 'is 

work is never through ; 
'E isn't one o' the reg'lar Line, nor 'e isn't one of 

the crew. 
'E 's a kind of a giddy harumfrodite — soldier an' 

sailor too I 

An' after I met 'im all over the world, a-doin' all 

kinds of things. 

Like landin' 'isself with a Gatlin' gun to talk to 

them 'eathen kings ; 

171 



172 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 

'E sleejis in an 'ammick instead of a cot, an' 'e drills 
with the deck on a slew. 

An' 'e sweats like a Jolly — 'Er Majesty's Jolly — sol- 
dier an' sailor too ! 

For there isn't a job on the top o' the earth the 
beggar don't know, nor do — 

You can leave 'im at night on a bald man's 'ead, to 
paddle 'is own canoe — 

'E 's a sort of a bloorain' cosmopolouse — soldier an' 
sailor too. 

We've fought 'em in trooper, we've fought 'em in 
dock, and drunk with 'em in betweens, 

When they called us the seasick scull'ry-maids, an 
we called 'em the Ass Marines ; 

But, when we wns down for a double fatigue, from 
Woolwich to Bernardmyo, 

We sent for the Jollies — 'Er Majesty's Jollies — sol- 
dier an' sailor too ! 

They think for 'emselves, an' they steal for 'em- 
selves, and they never ask what 's to do, 

But they 're camped an' fed an' they 're up an' fed 
before our bugle 's blew. 

Ho ! they ain't no limpin' procrastitutes — soldier 
an' sailor too. 



' SOLDIER AN' SAILOR TOO ' 173 

You may say we are fond of an 'arness-cut, or 

'ootin' in barrick-yards^ 
Or startin' a Board School mutiny along o' the 

Onion Guards ; 
But once in a while we can finish in style for the 

ends of the earth to view. 
The same as the Jollies — 'Er Majesty's Jollies — 

soldier an' sailor too ! 
They come of our lot, they was brothers to us ; 

they was beggars we 'd met an' knew ; 
Yes, barrin' an inch in the chest an' the arm, they 

was doubles o' me an' you ; 
For they weren't no special chrysanthemums — 

soldier an' sailor too ! 

To take your chance in the thick of a rush, with 

firing all about. 
Is nothing so bad when you 've cover to 'and, an' 

leave an' likin' to shout ; 
But to stand an' be still to the Btrhen'ead drill is a 

damn tough bullet to chew, 
An' they done it, the Jollies — 'Er Majesty's Jollies 

— soldier an' sailor too ! 
Their work was done when it 'adu't begun ; they 

was younger nor me an' you ; 



174 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 

Their choice it was plain between drownin' in 'caps 

an' bein' mopped by the screw, 
So they stood an' was still to the Birken'ead drill, 

soldier an' sailor too ! 

We 're most of us liars, we 're 'arf of us thieves, an' 

the rest are as rank as can be, 
But once in a while we can finish in style (which 

I 'ope it won't 'appen to me). 
But it makes you think better o' you an' your 

friends, an' the work you may 'ave to do. 
When you think o' the sinkin' Victorier's Jollies — 

soldier an' sailor too ! 
Now there isn't no room for to say ye don't know — 

they 'ave proved it plain and true — 
That whether it's Widow, or whether it's ship, 

Victorier's work is to do. 
An' they done it, the Jollies — 'Er Majesty's Jollies 

— soldier an' sailor too ! 



SAPPERS 

When the Waters were dried an' the Earth did 
appear, 

(' It's all one,' says the Sapper), 
The Lord He created the Engineer, 

Her Majesty's Royal Engineer, 

With the rank and pay of a Sapper ! 

When the Flood come along for an extra monsoon, 
'Twas Noah constructed the first pontoon 
To the plans of Her Majesty's, etc. 

But after fatigue in the wet an' the sun. 
Old Noah got drunk, which he wouldn't ha' done 
If he 'd trained with, etc. 

When the Tower o' Babel had mixed up men's bat, 
Some clever civilian was managing that, 



An' none of, etc 



M 175 



176 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 



When the Jews had a fight at the foot of a hill, 
Young Joshua ordered the sun to stand still. 
For he was a Captain of Engineers, etc. 



When the Childien of Israel made bricks without 

straw, 
They were learnin' the regular work of our Corps, 
The work of, etc. 

For ever since thenj if a war they would wage. 
Behold us a-shinin' on history's page — 
First page for, etc. 

We lay down their sidings an' help 'em entrain. 
An' we sweep up their mess through the bloomin' 
campaign, 
In the style of, etc. 

They send us in front with a fuse an' a mine 
To blow up the gates that are rushed by the Line, 
But bent by, etc. 

They send us behind with a pick an' a spade. 
To dig for the guns of a bullock-brigade 
Which has asked for, etc. 



SAPPERS 177 

We work under escort in trousers and shirt, 
An' the heathen they plug us tail-up in the dirt, 
Annoying, etc. 

We blast out the reck an' we shovel the mud, 
We make 'em good roads an' — they roll down the 
khud. 
Reporting, etc. 

We make 'em their bridges, their wells, an* their 

huts. 
An' the telegraph-wire the enemy cuts, 
An' it 's blamed on, etc. 

An' when we return, an' from war we would cease, 
They grudge us adornin' the billets of peace. 
Which are kept for, etc. 

We build 'em nice barracks — they swear they are bad. 
That our Colonels are Methodist, married or mad, 
Insultin', etc. 

They haven't no manners nor gratitude too. 
For the more that we help 'em, the less will they do. 
But mock at, etc. 



178 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 

Now the Line 's but a man with a gun in his hand, 
An' Cavalry 's only what horses can stand. 
When helped by, etc. 

Artillery moves by the leave o' the ground, 
But ne are the men that do something all round, 
For we are, etc. 

I have stated it plain, an' my argument 's thus 

(' It 's all one,' says the Sapper), 
There 's only one Corps which is perfect — that's us; 

An' they call us Her Majesty's Engineers, 

Her Majesty's Royal Engineers, 

With the I'ank and pay of a Sapper ! 



THAT DAY 

It got beyond all orders an' it got beyond all 
'ope; 
It got to shammin' wounded an' retirin' from 
the 'alt. 
'Ole companies was lookin' for the nearest road to 
slope ; 
It were just a bloomin' knock-out — an' our 
fault ! 

Now there ain't no chorus 'ere to give, 

Nor there ain't no bafid to play ; 
An I wish I was dead 'fore I done what I did, 

Or seen what I seed that day J 

We was sick o' bein' punished, an' we let 'em 
know it, too ; 
An' a company-commander up an' 'it us with a 

sword, 

179 



180 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 

An' some one shouted ''Ook it!' an' it come to 
sai e-ki-poo, 
An' we chucked our rifles from us — O my 
Gawd ! 

There was thirty dead an' wounded on the ground 
we wouldn't keep — 
No, there wasn't more than twenty when the 
front begun to go ; 
But, Christ ! along the line o' flight they cut us up 
like sheep. 
An' that was all we gained by doin' so. 

I 'eard the knives be'ind me, but I dursn't face my 
man. 
Nor I don't know where I went to, 'cause I 
didn't 'alt to see. 
Till I 'eard a beggar squealin' out for quarter as 'e 
ran. 
An' I thought I knew the voice an' — it was me ! 

We was 'idin' under bedsteads more than 'arf a 
march away ; 
We was lyin' up like rabbits all about the country 
side; 



THAT DAY 181 

An' the major cursed 'is Maker 'cause "e lived to 
see that day, 
An' the colonel broke 'is sword acrost, an' cried. 

We was rotten 'fore we started — we was never 
discipli?ie(l ; 
We made it out a favour if an order was obeyed ; 
Yes, every little drummer 'ad 'is rights an' wrongs 
to mind, 
So we had to pay for teachin' — an' we paid ! 

The papers 'id it 'andsorae, but you know the Army 
knows ; 
We was p; t to groomin' camels till the regiments 
withdrew. 

An' they gave us each a medal for subduin' Eng- 
land's foes, 

An' I 'ope you like my song — because it 's true ! 

A71 there ain't no chorus 'ere to give, 

Nor there ain't no band to plajj ; 
But I ?vi.sh I was dead 'Jbi-e I dofie what I did, 

Or seen what I seed that day ! 



'THE MEN THAT FOUGHT AT MINDEN' 

A SONG OF INSTRUCTION 

The men that fought at Minden^ they was rookies 
in their time — 
So was them that fought at Waterloo ! 
All the 'ole command^ yuss, from Minden to Mai- 
wand, 
They was once dam' sweeps like you ! 

Then do not he discouraged, ' Eaveii is your ' elper. 

We'll learn you not to forget ; 
An you mustn't swear an curse, or you'll only catch 
it worse. 

For we 'II make you soldiers yet ! 

The men that fought at Minden, they 'ad stocks 
beneath their chins, 
Six inch 'igh an' more ; 

182 



'THE MEN THAT FOUGHT AT MINDEN' 183 

But fatigue it was their pride, and they ivould not 
be denied 
To clean the cook-'ouse floor. 

The men that fought at Minden, they had anarch- 
istic bombs 
Served to 'em by name of 'and-grenades ; 
But they got it in the eye (same as you will by 
an' by) 
When they clubbed their field-parades. 

The men that fought at Minden, they 'ad buttons 
up an' down, 
Two-an'-twenty dozen of 'em told ; 
But they didn't grouse an' shirk at an hour's extry 
work. 
They kept 'em bright as gold. 

The men that fought at Minden, they was armed 
with musketoons, 
Also, they was drilled by 'alberdiers ; 
I don't know what they were, but the sergeants 
took good care 
They washed be'ind their ears. 



184 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 

The men that fought at Minden, they 'ad ever cash 
in 'and 
Which they did not bank nor save. 
But spent it gay an' free on their betters — such as 
me — 
For the good advice I gave. 

The men that fought at Minden, they was civil — 
yuss, they was — 
Ne\ er didn't talk o' rights an' wrongs, 
But they got it with the toe (same as you will get 
it— so !)— 
For interrupting songs. 

The men that fought at Minden, they was several 
other things 
Which I don't remember clear; 
But that's the reason why, now the six-year rnen 
are dry. 
The rooks will stand the beer ! 

Then do not be discouraged, 'Eaven is your 'clper, 
We 'II learn you not to forget ; 



'THE MEN THAT FOUGHT AT MINDEN' 185 

Ari you mustn't swear an curse, or tjon 'II only catch 
it tvorse. 
And we'll make you soldiers yet ! 

Soldiers yet, ij'yon 'vc got it in you — 

All for the sake of the Core ; 
Soldiers yet, if we 'ave to skin you — 

Run a7i get the beer, Johnny Raw — Jolinny Raw ! 

Ho ! run an get the beer, Johnny Raw ! 



CHOLERA CAMP 

We've got the cholerer in camp — it's worse than 

forty fights; 
We're dyin' in the wilderness the same as Isru- 

lites ; 
It's before us, an' be'ind us, an' we cannot get 

away. 
An' the doctor's just reported we've ten more 

to-day ! 

Oh, strike your camp cm' go, the bugle 's calUn, 

The Rains are fallin — 
The dead are hushed an stoned to keep 'em safe 

below ; 
The Band 's a-doin all she knows to cheer us ; 
The chaplain 's gone and p7-at/ed to Gaivd to 'ear us — 

To 'ear us — 

O Lord, for it 's a-killin of us so ! 
186 



CHOLERA CAMP 187 

Since August, when it started, it 's been stickin' to 

our tail, 
Though they 've 'ad us out by marches an' they 've 

'ad us back by rail ; 
But it runs as fast as troop-trains, and we can not 

get away ; 
An' the sick-list to the Colonel makes ten more 

to-day. 

There ain't no fun in women nor there ain't no bite 

to drink ; 
It 's much too wet for shootin', we can only march 

and think ; 
An' at evenin', down the nullahs, we can 'ear the 

jackals say, 
' Get up, you rotten beggars, you 've ten more 

to-day ! ' 

'Twould make a monkey cough to see our way 

o' doin' things — 
Lieutenants takin' companies an' captains takin' 

wings, 
An' Lances actin' Sergeants — eight file to obey — 
For we've lots o' quick promotion on ten deaths 

a day ! 



188 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 

Our Colonel 's white an' twitterly — 'e gets no sleep 

nor food. 
But mucks about in 'orspital where nothing does 

no good. 
'E sends us 'eaps o' comfoi'ts, all bought from 'is 

pay- 
But there aren't much comfort 'andy on ten deaths 

a day. 

Our Chaplain 's got a banjo, an' a skinny mule 'e 

rides. 
An' the stuff 'e says an' sings us, Lord, it makes us 

split our sides ! 
With 'is black coat-tails a-bobbin' to Ta-ra-ra 

Boom-der-mj ! 
'E 's the proper kind o' padre for ten deaths a day. 

An' Father Victor 'elps 'im with our Roman Catho- 

licks — 
He knows an 'eap of Irish songs an' rummy con- 

jurin' tricks ; 
An' the two they works together when it comes to 

play or pray ; 
So we keep the ball a-rollin' on ten deaths a day. 



CHOLERA CAMP 189 

We 've got the cholerer in camp — we 've got it 'ot 

an' sweet ; 
It ain't no Christmas dinner, but it 's 'elped an' we 

must eat. 
We 've gone beyond the funkin', 'cause we 've found 

it doesn't pay, 
An' we 're rockin' round the Districk on ten deaths 

a day ! 

Then strike your camp an' go, the Rains arefallin. 

The Bugle 's callin ! 
The dead are btished an' stoned to keep 'em safe 

below ! 
An' them that do not like it they can lump it, 
An them that can not stand it they can jump it ; 
We 've got to die somewhere — some way — some'ow — 
We might as well begin to do it now ! 
Then, Number One, let dotvn the tent-pole slow, 
Knock out the pegs an 'old the corners — so ! 
Fold in the flies, furl up the ropes, an stow ! 
Oh, strike — oh, strike your camp an go ! 

{Gawd 'elp us !) 



THE LADIES 

I 'vE taken my fun where I 've found it ; 

I 've rogued an' I 've ranged in ray time ; 
I 've 'ad my pickin' o' sweet'earts^ 

An' four o' the lot was prime. 
One was an 'arf-caste widow. 

One was a woman at Prome, 
One was the wife of ajernadar-sais,^ 

An' one is a girl at 'ome. 

Now I aren't no 'and with the ladies, 

For, takin' 'em all along, 
You never can say till you 've tried 'em. 

An thefi you are like to he wrong. 
There 's times when you 'II think that you mightn't, 

There 's times when you 'II know that you might ; 
But the things you will learn from the Yellow an 
Brown, 

They 'II 'elp you a lot tvith the White ! 

1 Head-groom. 
190 



THE LADIES 191 

I was a young un at 'Oogli, 

Shy as a girl to begin ; 
Aggie de Castrer she made me, 

An' Aggie was clever as sin ; 
Older than me, but my first un — 

More like a mother she were — 
Showed me the way to promotion an' pay. 

An' I learned about women from 'er ! 



Then I was ordered to Burma, 

Actin' in charge o' Bazar, 
An' I got me a tiddy live 'eathen 

Through buy in' supplies off 'er pa. 
Funny an' yellow an' faithful — 

Doll in a teacup she were, 
But we lived on the square, like a true-married 
pair, 

An' I learned about women from 'er ! 



Then we was shifted to Neemuch 

(Or I might ha' been keepin' 'er now). 

An' I took with a shiny she-devil. 
The wife of a nigger at Mhow ; 

N 



192 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 

'Taught me the gipsy-folks' bplee^ ; 

Kind o' volcano she were, 
For she knifed me one night 'cause I wished 
she was white. 

And I learned about women from 'er ! 



Then I come 'ome in the trooper, 

'Long of a kid o' sixteen — 
Girl from a convent at Meerut, 

The straightest I ever 'ave seen. 
Love at first sight was 'er trouble, 

She didn't know what it were ; 
An' I wouldn't do such, 'cause I liked 'er 
too much. 

But — I learned about women from *er ! 



I 've taken my fun where I 've found it, 
An' now I must pay for my fun, 

For the more you 'ave known o' the others 
The less will you settle to one ; 



1 Slang. 



THE LADIES 193 

An' the end of it's sittin' and thinkin', 

An' dreamin' Hell-fires to see ; 
So be warned by my lot (which I know you 
will not). 

An' learn about women from me ! 



What did the Colonel's Lady think ? 

Nobody never kiiew. 
Somebody asked the Sergeant's wife, 

An' she told 'em tnie ! 
When you get to a man in the case, 

They 're like as a row of pins — 
For the Colonel's Lady an' Judy 0' Grady 

Are sisters tinder their skins ! 



BILL 'AWKINS 

' 'As anybody seen Bill ' Awkins ? ' 

' Now 'ow in the devil would I know ? ' 
*'E 's taken my girl out walkin', 
An' I 've got to tell 'im so — 

Gawd — bless — 'im ! 
I 've got to tell 'im so.' 

' D' yer know what 'e 's like. Bill 'Awkins ? ' 
' Now what in the devil would I care ? ' 
"^'E's the livin', breathin' image of an organ- 
grinder's monkey. 
With a pound of grease in 'is 'air — 

Gawd — bless — 'im ! 
An' a pound o' grease in 'is 'air.' 

An' s'pose you met Bill 'Awkins, 
Now what in the devil 'ud ye do ? ' 

194 



BILL 'AWKINS 195 

' I'd open 'is cheek to 'is chin-strap buckle, 
An' bung up 'is both eyes, too — 

Gawd — bless — 'im ! 
An bung up 'is both eyes, too ! ' 

'Look 'ere, where 'e comes, Bill 'Awkins ! 
Now what in the devil will you say ? ' 
' It isn't fit an' proper to be fightin' on a Sunday, 
So I '11 pass 'im the time o' day — 

Gawd — bless — 'im ! 
I '11 pass 'im the time o' day ! ' 



THE MOTHER-LODGE 

There was Rundle, Station Master, 

An' Beazeley of the Rail, 
An' 'Ackman, Commissariat, 

An' Donkin' o' the Jail ; 
An' Blake, Conductor-Sargent, 

Our Master twice was 'e. 
With 'im that kept the Europe-shop, 

Old Framjee Eduljee. 

Outside — ' Sergeant ! Sir ! Salute ! Salaam ! ' 
Inside — ' Brother,' an it doesn't do no 'arm. 
We met upoti the Level an we parted on the Sqicare, 
An I was Junior Deacon in my Mother Lodge out 
there ! 



We'd Bola Nath, Accountant, 
An' Saul the Aden Jew, 

An' Din Mohammed, draughtsman 
Of the Survey Office too ; 

106 



THE MOTHER-LODGE 197 

There was Babu Chuckerbutty, 

An' Amir Singh the Sikh, 
An' Castro from the fittin' -sheds, 

The Roman CathoHek ! 



We 'adn't good regalia. 

An' our Lodge was old an' bare. 
But we knew the Ancient Landmarks, 

An' we kep' 'em to a hair ; 
An' lookin' on it backwards 

It often strikes me thus, 
There ain't such things as infidels, 

Excep', per'aps, it 's us. 



For monthly, after Labour, 

We 'd all sit down and smoke 
(We dursn't give no banquits. 

Lest a Brother's caste were broke). 
An' man on man got talkin' 

Religion an' the rest, 
An' every man comparin' 

Of the God 'e knew the best. 



198 BARRACK-ROOiM BALLADS 

So man on man got talkin'. 

An' not a Brother stirred 
Till mornin' waked the parrots 

An' tliat dam' brain-fever-bird ; 
We 'd say 'twas 'ighly curious. 

An' we 'd all ride 'ome to bed. 
With Mo'ammed, God, an' Shiva 

Changin' pickets in our 'ead. 

Full oft on Guv'ment service 

This rovin' foot 'ath pressed, 
An' bore fraternal greetin's 

To the Lodges east an' west, 
Accordin' as commanded 

From Kohat to Singapore, 
But I wish that I might see them 

In my Mother Lodge once more ! 

I wish that I might see them. 
My Brethren black an' brown. 

With the trichies smellin' pleasant 
An' the hog-darn ^ passin' down ; 

^ Cigar-lighter. 



THE MOTHER-LODGE 199 

An' the old khansamah ^ snorin' 

On the bottle-khana - floor. 
Like a Master in good standing 

With my Mother Lodge once more ! 



Outside — ' Sergeant ! Sir ! Salute ! Salaam ! ' 
Inside — ' Brother,' an it doesn't do no 'arm. 
We met npon the Level an' we parted on the Square, 
An I was Junior Deacon in my Mother Lodge out 
there ! 

1 Butler. 2 Pantry. 



'FOLLOW ME 'OME' 

There was no one like 'im, 'Orse or Foot, 
Nor any o' the Guns I knew ; 
An' because it was so, why, o' course 'e went an' 
died, 
Which is just what the best men do. 

So it 's knock out your pipes an follow me ! 
An it 's ^finish np your swipes an' follow me J 
Oh, 'ark to the big drum callin , 
Follow me — -follow me 'ome ! 

'Is mare she neighs the 'ole day long. 
She paws the 'ole night through. 
An' she won't take 'er feed 'cause o' waitin' for 'is 
step, 
Which is just what a beast would do. 

200 



'FOLLOW ME 'OME' 201 

'Is girl she goes with a bombardier 
Before 'er month is through ; 
An' the banns are up in churchy for she 's got the 
beggar hooked. 
Which is just what a girl would do. 



We fought 'bout a dog — last week it were — 
No more than a round or two ; 
But I strook 'im cruel 'ard, an' I wish I 'adn't 
now, 
Which is just what a man can't do. 

'E was all that I 'ad in the way of a friend, 
An' I 've 'ad to find one new ; 
But I 'd give my pay an' stripe for to get the beggar 
back, 
Which it's just too late to do. 



So it 'x knock out your pipes an follow me I 
An' it 'sjinish off your swipes an follow me 1 
Oh, 'ark to thejifes a-crawlin' I 
Yollow me — -follow me 'ome ! 



202 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 

Take 'im awatj ! 'E 's gone where I he best mcJi go. 
Take 'im away I An the gun-wheels tiirnin slow. 
Take 'im away ! There's more from the place 'e 

come. 
Take 'im away, with the limber an the drum. 



For it 's ' Three rounds blank ' an follow me. 
An it's ' Thirtee7i rank' an follow vie ; 
Oh, passin the love o' women. 
Follow me — follow me 'ome ! 



THE SERGEANT'S WEDDIN' 

'E WAS warned agin 'er — 

That 's what made 'hifi look ; 
She was warned agin 'im — 

That is why she took. 
'Wouldn't 'ear no reason, 

'Went an' done it blind ; 
We know all about 'em, 

They 've got all to find ! 



Cheer for the Scrgemifs weddiii  
Give 'em one cheer more! 

Grey gun- arses in the lando, 
All a rogue is married to, etc. 



What's the use o' tellin' 
'Arf the lot she's been? 

'E 's a bloomin' robber. 
An 'e keeps canteen. 



203 



204 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 



'Ow did 'e get 'is buggy ? 

Gawd, you needn't ask ! 
'Made 'is forty gallon 

Out of every cask ! 



Watch 'im, with 'is 'air cut, 

Count us filin' by — 
Won't the Colonel praise 'is 

Pop — u — lar — i — ty ! 
We 'ave scores to settle — 

Scores for more than beer ; 
She 's the girl to pay 'em — 

That is whv we 're 'ere ! 



See the chaplain thinkin' ? 

See the women smile ? 
Twig the married winkin' 

As they take the aisle ? 
Keep your side-arms quiet, 

Dressin' by the Band. 
Ho ! You 'oly beggars. 

Cough be'ind your 'and ! 



THE SERGEANT'S WEDDIN' 205 

Now it's done an' over, 

'Ear the organ squeak, 
''Voice that breathed o'er Eden' — 

Ain't she got the cheek ! 
White an' laylock ribbons. 

Think yourself so fine ! 
I 'd pray Gawd to take yer 

'Fore I made yer mine ! 



Escort to the kerridge, 

Wish 'im luck, the brute ! 
Chuck the slippers after — 

[Pity 'taint a boot !] 
Bowin' like a lady, 

Blushin' like a lad — 
'Go would say to see 'em 

Both is rotten bad ? 



Cheer for the Sergeant's weddm- 
Give 'em one cheer more ! 

Grey gun-'orses in the lando, 
An a rogue is married to, etc. 



THE JACKET 

Through the Plagues of Egyp' we was chasin' Arabi, 

Gettin' down an' shovin' in the sun ; 
An' you might 'ave called us dirty, an' you might 
ha' called us dry. 
An' you might 'ave 'card us talkin' at the gun. 
But the Captain 'ad 'is jacket, an' the jacket it was 
new — 
('Orse Gunners, listen to my song !) 
An' the wettin' of the jacket is the proper thing 
to do, 
Nor we didn't keep 'im waiting very long. 



One day they gave us orders for to shell a sand 
redoubt, 
Loadin' down the axle-arms with case ; 
But the Captain knew 'is dooty, an' he took the 
crackers out 
An' he put some proper liquor in its place. 

206 



THE JACKET 207 

An' the Captain saw the shrapnel^ which is six- 
an'-thirty clear. 
('Orse Gunners, Hsten to my song !) 
'Will you draw the weight,' sez 'e, 'or will you draw 
the beer ? ' 
An' we didn't keep 'im waitin' very long. 

For the Captain, etc. 



Then we trotted gentle, not to break the bloomin' 
glass. 
Though the Arabites 'ad all their ranges marked ; 
But we dursn't 'ardly gallop, for the most was bottled 
Bass, 
An' we 'd dreamed of it since we was dis- 
embarked : 
So we fired economic with the shells we 'ad in 
'and, 
('Orse Gunners, listen to my song I) 
But the beggars under cover 'ad the impidence to 
stand, 
An' we couldn't keep 'em waitin' very long. 

And the Cajjtahi, etc 

o 



208 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 

So we finished 'arf the liquor (an' the Captain took 
champagne). 
An' the Arabites was shootin' all the while ; 
An' we left our wounded 'appy with the empties on 
the plain, 
An' we used the bloomin' guns for pro-jec- 
tile! 
We limbered up an' galloped — there were nothin' 
else to do — 
('Orse Gunners, listen to my song !) 
An' the Battery came a-boundin' like a boundin' 
kangaroo, 
But they didn't watch us comin' very long. 

As the Captain, etc. 



We was goin' most extended— we was drivin' very 
fine. 
An' the Arabites were loosin' 'igh an' wide. 
Till the Captain took the glassy with a rattlin' right 
incline, 
An' we dropped upon their 'eads the other 
side. 



THE JACKET 209 

Then we give 'em quarter — such as 'adn't up and 
cut 
('Orse Gunners, listen to my song !), 
An' the Captain stood a limberful of fizzy — some- 
thin' Brutt, 
But we didn't leave it fizzing very long. 

For the Captain, etc. 



We might ha' been court-martialled, but it all come 
out all right 
When they signalled us to join the main command. 
There was every round expended^ there was every 
gunner tight, 
An' the Captain waved a corkscrew in 'is 'and 



But the Captain 'ad 'is jacket, etc. 



THE 'EATHEN 

The 'eathen in 'is blindness bows down to wood an' 

stone ; 
'E don't obey no orders unless they is 'is own ; 
'E keeps 'is side-arms awful : 'e leaves 'em all about. 
An' then comes up the regiment an' pokes the 

'eathen out. 



All along o dirtiness, all along o' mess, 
All along o' (lain' things rather-more-or-less. 
All along of abhy-nay} hil^ an hazar-ho^ 
Wind you keep your rife an yourself jus' so ! 

The young recruit is 'aughty — 'e draf s from Gawd 

knows where ; 
They bid 'im show 'is stockin's an' lay 'is mattress 

square ; 

^ Not now. ~ To-morrow. s Wait a bit. 

210 



THE 'EATHP:N 211 

'E calls it bloomin' nonsense — ' ; doesn't know^ no 

more — 
An' then up comes 'is Company an' kicks 'im round 

the floor ! 

The young recruit is 'ammered— 'e takes it very 'ard; 
'E 'angs 'is 'ead an' mutters — 'e sulks about the 

yard ; 
'E talks o' 'cruel tyrants' 'e '11 swing for by-an'-by. 
An' the others 'ears an' mocks 'im, an' the boy goes 

orf to crv. 



The young recruit is silly — 'e thinks o' suicide ; 
'E 's lost 'is gutter-devil ; 'e 'asn't got 'is pride ; 
But day by day they kicks 'im, which 'dps 'ira on 

a bit, 
Till e' finds 'isself one mornin' with a full an' protDcr 

kit. 

Gettin clear o dirtiness, getiin done with mess, 
Gettin shut o' doin things rather-more-or-less ; 
Not so fond of ahhy-nay, kid, nor hazar-ho. 
Learns to keep 'is rife an 'issefjus' so ' 



212 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 

The young recruit is 'appy — 'e throws a chest to suit ; 
You see 'im groAV nustaches; you 'ear 'im slap 'is 

boot; 
'E learns to drop the ' bloodies ' from every word 'e 

slings. 
An' 'e shows an 'ealthy brisket when 'e strips for bars 

an' rings. 

The cruel-tyrant-sergeants they watch 'im 'arf a 

year; 
They watch 'im with 'is comrades, they watch 'im 

with 'is beer ; 
They watch 'im with the women at the regimental 

dance. 
And the cruel-tyrant-sergeants send 'is name along 

for ' Lance.' 

An' now 'e 's 'arf o' nothin', an' all a private yet, 
'Is room they up an' rags 'im to see what they will 

get; 
They rags 'im low an' cunnin', each dirty trick they 

can. 
But 'e learns to sweat 'is temper an' e' learns to 

sweat 'is man. 



THE 'EATHEN 213 

An', last, a Colour-Sergeant, as such to be obeyed, 
'E schools 'is men at cricket, 'e tells 'em on parade ; 
They sees 'em quick an' 'andy, uncommon set an' 

smart, 
An' so 'e talks to orficers which 'ave the Core at 

'cart. 



'E learns to do 'is watchin' Avithout it showin' plain; 
'E learns to save a dummy, an' shove 'im straight 

again ; 
'E learns to check a ranker that 's buyin' leave to 

shirk ; 
An* 'e learns to make men like 'im so they '11 learn 

to like their work. 



An' when it comes to marchin' he '11 see their socks 

are right. 
An' when it comes to action 'e shows 'em 'ow to 

sight ; 
'E knows their ways of thinkin' and just what 's in 

their mind ; 
'E knows when they are takin' on an' when they 've 

fell be'ind. 



214 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 

'E knows each talkin' corpril that leads a squad 

astray ; 
'E feels 'is innar Is 'eavin', 'is bowels givin' way ; 
'E sees the blue-white faces all tryin' 'ard to grin, 
An' 'e stands an' waits an' suffers till it 's time to 

cap 'em in. 

An' now the hugly bullets come peckin' through 

the dust. 
An' no one wants to face 'em, but every beggar 

must; 
So, like a man in irons which isn't glad to go, 
They moves 'em off by companies uncommon stiff 

an' slow. 



Of all 'is five years' schoolin' they don't remember 

much 
Excep' the not retreatin', the step an' keepin' 

touch. 
It looks Tike teachin' wasted when they duck an' 

spread an' 'op, 
But if 'e 'adn't learned 'em they 'd be all about the 

shop ! 



THE 'EATHEN 215 

An' now it's ' 'Oo goes backward?' an' now it's 

' 'Oo comes on ? ' 
And now it's 'Get the doolies,' an' now the 

captain 's gone ; 
An' now it 's bloody murder, but all the while they 

'ear 
'Is voice, the same as barrick drill, a-shepherdin' the 

rear. 

'E 's just as sick as they are, 'is 'eart is like to split, 
But 'e works 'em, works 'em, works 'em till he feels 

'em take the bit ; 
The rest is 'oldin' steady till the watchful bugles 

play, 

An' 'e lifts 'em, lifts 'em, lifts 'em through the 
charge that wins the daj' ! 

The 'eathen in 'is blmdness bows do?vn to wood an 

stone ; 
'E don't obey no orders unless they is 'is own ; 
The 'eathen in 'is blindness vuust end where 'e began, 
But the backbone of the Army is the non-commissioned 

m.an ! 



210 BARRACK-ROO.M BALLADS 

Keep awaij from dirtiness — keep away from mess. 
T)ont get into doin things rather-more-or-less ! 
Let 's ha' done with ahby-nay, kul, an' hazar-ho ; 
Mi?id you keep your rifle an yourself jus' so ! 



THE SHUT-EYE SENTRY 

Sez the Junior Orderly Sergeant 

To the Senior Orderly Man : 
' Our Orderly Orf cer's hokee-mut. 

You 'elp 'im all you can. 
For the wine was old and the night is cold, 

An' the best we may go wrong, 
So, 'fore 'e gits to the sentry-box, 

You pass the word along.' 



So it was ' Rounds ! What rounds ? ' at two of a 
frosty night, 
'E's 'oldin 011 by the sergeant's sash, hut, sentry, 
shut your eye. 
An it 7vas ' Pass ! All 's well ! ' Oh, ain't 'c drippin 
tight ! 
'E 'II need an affidavit pretty badly by-an'-by. 

217 



218 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 

The moon was white on the barrieks. 

The road was white an' wide. 
An' the Orderly Orf'cer took it all, 

An' the ten-foot ditch beside. 
An' the corporal pulled an' the sergeant 
pushed. 

An' the three they danced along, 
But I 'd shut my eyes in the sentry-box, 

So I didn't see nothin' wrong. 



Though it was ' Rounds ! What Kounds ? ' cor- 
poral, 'old 'im up ! 
'E 's usin' 'is cap as it shouldn't be used, but, sentry, 
shut your eye. 
An it was ' Pass ! All 's well ! ' Ho, shim the foam- 
in cup ! 
' E'll need, etc. 



'Twas after four in the mornin' ; 

We 'ad to stop the fun. 
An' we sent 'im 'ome on a bullock-cart. 

With 'is belt an' stock undone ; 



THE SHUT-EYE SENTRY 219 

Bat we sluiced 'im down an' we washed 'im 
outj 

An' a first-class job we made. 
When we saved 'im, smart as a bombardier, 

For six o'clock parade. 



// 'ad beeji ' Hounds ! What Rounds ? ' Oh, shove 
'im straisht asain / 
'E 's usin 'is sword for a bicycle, bjd, sentry, shut 
your eye. 
An' it 7vas 'Pass! All's well!' 'E's called me 
' Darlin' Jane'! 
'E'll need, etc. 



The drill was long an' 'eavy. 

The sky was 'ot an' blue. 
An' 'is eye was wild an' 'is 'air was wet, 

But 'is sergeant pulled 'im through. 
Our men was good old trusties — 

They 'd done it on their 'ead ; 
But you oaght to 'ave 'card 'em markin' time 

To 'ide the things 'e said ! 



220 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 

For it was ' Right jiank — wheel ! ' for ' 'Alt, an' stand 
at ease ! ' 
An ' Left extend ! ' for ' Centre close ! ' O marker, 
shut your eye ! 
An it was, ' 'Ere, sir, 'ere ! before the Colonel 
sees ! ' 
So he needed affidavits pretty badly by-an'-by. 



There was two-an'-thirty sergeants, 

There was corp'rals forty-one, 
There was just nine 'undred rank an' file 

To swear to a touch o' sun. 
There was me 'e 'd kissed in the sentiy-box, 

As I 'ave not told in my song, 
But I took my oath, which were Bible truth, 

I 'adn't seen nothin' wrong. 



There's them that's 'ot an' 'aughty. 
There 's them that 's cold an' 'ard, 

But there comes a night when the best gets 
tight, 
And then turns out the Guard. 



THE SHUT-EYE SENTRY 221 

I 've seen them 'ide their liquor 

In eveiy kind o' way, 
But most depends on makin' friends 

With Privit Thomas A. ! 



When it is ' Rounds ! What rounds ?' 'E's breaihin 
through 'is nose. 
'E's reelin , rollin , roarin tight, hut, sentry, shut 
your eye. 
An it is ' Pass ! All's well !' An that's the way it 
goes : 
We'll 'elp 'im for 'is mother, an 'e'll 'clp us 
hy-an-hy ! 



' MARY, PITY WOMEN ! ' 

You call yourself a man. 

For all you used to swear. 
An' leave me, as you can. 

My certain shame to bear ? 

I 'ear ! You do not care — 
You done the worst you know. 

I 'ate you, grinnin' there. . , . 
Ah, Gawd, I love you so ! 

Nice while it lasted, an now it is over — 
Tear out your ' eart an good-bye to your lover ! 
What 's the use o' grievin\ when the mother that bore 

you 
{Mary, pity women !) knew it all before you ? 

It are'nt no false alarm. 

The finish to your fun ; 
You — you 'ave brung the 'arm, 

An' I 'm the ruined one ; 

222 



* MARY, PITY WOMEN ! ' 223 

An' now you '11 off an' run 
With some new fool in tow. 

Your 'eart ? You 'aven't none. . . . 
Ah, Gawd, I love you so ! 

When a man is tired there is naught will bind 'im ; 
All 'c solemn promised 'e will shove be'ind 'im. 
What's the good o' prayin for The Wrath to strike 'im 
(JMary, pity women /), when the rest are like 'im ? 

What 'ope for me or — it ? 

^^^lat 's left for us to do ? 
I 've walked with men a bit, 

But this — but this is you. 

So 'elp me Clurist, it 's true ! 
Where can I 'ide or go ? 

You coward through and through I . . . 
Ah, Gawd, I love you so I 

All the more you give 'em the less are they for givin — 
Love lies dead, an you can not kiss 'im liviii. 
Down the mad 'e led you there is no rettirnin 
{Mary, pity women !), hid you 're laic in Icarnin ! 



224 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 

You 'd like to treat me fair r 

You can't, because we're pore? 
We 'd starve ? What do I care ! 

We might, but tills is shore ! 

I want the name — no more — 
The name, an' lines to show, 

An' not to be an 'ore. . . . 
Ah, Gawd, I love you so ! 

What 's the good o' pleadin, when the mother that 

bore you 
(Mary, pity women /) knew it all before you ? 
Sleep on 'is promises an irake to your sorrow 
(Mary, pity women J), for we sail to-morrow ! 



FOR TO ADMIRE 

The Injian Ocean sets an' smiles 

So sof ', so bright, so bloomin' blue ; 
There aren't a wave for miles an' miles 

Excep' the jiggle from the screw. 
The ship is swep', the day is done, 

The bugle 's gone for smoke and play ; 
An' black ag'in' the settin' sun 

The Lascar sings, 'Hiirn deckty hai ! ' ^ 



For to admire an Jbr to see, 

For to be' old this world so wide- 
It nei^er done no good to me, 
But I can't drop it if I tried ! 

' ' 1 'm looking )ut.' 



226 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 

I see the sergeants pitchin' quoits, 

I 'ear the women laugh an' talk, 
I spy upon the quarter-deck 

The orfieers an' lydies walk. 
I thinks about the things that was^ 

An' leans an' looks acrost the sea. 
Till spite of all the crowded ship 

There 's no one lef alive but me. 



The things that was which I 'ave seen, 

In barrick, camp, an' action too, 
I tells them over by myself. 

An' sometimes wonders if thty 're true ; 
For they was odd — most awful odd — 

But all the same now they are o'er, 
There must be 'caps o' plenty such, 

An' if I wait I '11 see some more. 



Oh, I 'ave come upon the books, 
An' frequent broke a barrick rule. 

An' stood beside an' watched myself 
Be'avin' like a bloomin' fool. 



FOR TO ADMIRE 22 



zzt 



I paid my price for findin' out. 

Nor never grutched the price I paid, 

But sat in Clink without my boots, 
Admirin' 'ow the world was made. 



Be'old a crowd upon the beam, 

An' 'umped above the sea appears 
Old Aden, like a barrick-stove 

That no one 's lit for years an' years ! 
I passed by that when I began, 

An' I go 'orae the road I came, 
A time-expired soldier-man 

With six years' service to 'is name. 



My girl she said, ' Oh, stay with me ! ' 

My mother 'eld me to 'er breast. 
They 've never written none, an' so 

They must 'ave gone with all the rest- 
With all the rest which I 'ave seen 

An' found an' known an' met along. 
I cannot say the things I feel. 

And so I sing my evenin' song : 



228 BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS 

For to admire mi for to see, 

For to be' old this world so wide- 
It never done no good to jue, 
But I can't drop it if I tried ! 




L' ENVOI 

When Earth's last picture is painted and the tubes 

are twisted and dried. 
When the oldest colours have faded, and the youngest 

critic has died, 
We shall rest, and, faith, we shall need it — lie doAvn 

for an a!on or two, 
Till the Master of All Good Workmen shall put us 

to work anew ! 



And those that were good shall be happy : they shall 

sit in a golden chair ; 
They shall splash at a ten-league canvas with brushes 

of comets' hair ; 
They shall find real saints to draw from — Magdalene, 

Peter, and Paul ; 
They shall work for an age at a sitting and never be 

tired at all ! 

229 



230 BARRACK- ROOM BALLADS 

And only the Master shall praise us^ and only the 

Master shall blame ; 
And no one shall work for money, and no one shall 

work for fame. 
But each for the joy of the working, and each, in his 

separate star. 
Shall draAv the Thing as he sees It for the God of 

Things as They Are ! 



Printed by T. and A. Constaisle, Printers to Her Majesty 
at the Edinburgh University Press 



A CATALOGUE OF BOOKS 

AND ANNOUNCEMENTS OF 

METHUEN AND COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS . LONDON 

36 ESSEX STREET 

W.C. 



CONTENTS 






PAGE 


FORTHCOMING BOOKS, . 




2 


POETRY, .... 






9 


ENGLISH CLASSICS, 






lO 


ILLUSTRATED BOOKS, . 






Jl 


HISTORY, ... 






12 


BIOGRAPHY, .... 






14 


GENERAL LITERATURE, 






IS 


SCIENCE, .... 






i8 


PHILOSOPHY, 






19 


THEOLOGY, .... 






20 


LEADERS OF RELIGION, 






21 


FICTION, .... 






22 


BOOKS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS, . 






31 


THE PEACOCK LIBRARY, 






32 


UNIVERSITY EXTENSION SERIES, 






32 


SOCIAL QUESTIONS OF TO-DAY, 






34 


CLASSICAL TRANSLATIONS, . 






35 


EDUCATIONAL BOOKS, 






36 



OCTOBER 1896 



OCTOBEK 1896. 

Messrs. Methuen's 

ANNOUNCEMENTS 



oetry 



RTJDYAED KIPLING 

BALLADS. By Rudyard Kipling. Crown Zvo. 6s, 

150 copies on hand-made paper. Demy 8vo. 21 s. 

30 copies on Japanese paper. Demy Zvo. 6,1s, 

The enormous success of ' Barrack Room Ballads' justifies the expectation that this 
volume, so long postponed, will have an equal, if not a greater, success. 

GEORGE WYNDHAM 
^ SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. Edited, with an Introduction and 
Notes, by George Wyndham, M.P. Crown 8vo. y. 6d. 

[English Classics. 
W. E. HENLEY 
ENGLISH LYRICS. Selected and Edited by W. E. HENLEY. 
Crown 8vo. Buckratn. 6s. 

Also 15 copies on Japanese paper. Demy 8vo. £2, 2s. 
Few announcements will be more welcome to lovers of English verse than the one 
that Mr. Henley is bringing together into one book the finest lyrics in our 
language. The volume will be produced with the same care that made ' Lyra 
Heroica ' delightful to the hand and eye. 

'Q' 

POEMS AND BALLADS. By ' Q,' Author of 'Green Bays, 

etc. Crown 8vo. Buckram, '^s. 6d. 

25 copies on Japanese paper. Demy 8vo. 21s. 

History, Biography, and Travel 

CAPTAIN HINDE 

THE FALL OF THE CONGO ARABS. By Sidney L. 

HiNDE. With Portraits and Plans. Demy 8vo. \2s. 6d. 

This volume deals with the recent Belgian Expedition to the Upper Congo, which 

, developed into a war between the State forces and the Arab slave-raiders in 

Central Africa. Two white men only returned alive from the three years' war — 

Commandant Dhanis and the writer of this book, Captain Hinde. During the 

greater part of the time spent by Captain Hinde in the Congo he was amongst 

cannibal races in little-known regions, and, owing to the peculiar circumstances 

of his position, was enabled to see a side of native history shown to few Europeans. 

The war terminated in the complete defeat of the Arabs, seventy thousand of 

/ whom perished during the struggle. 



Messrs. Methuen's Announcements 3 

S. BARING GOULD 
THE LIFE OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. By S. Baring 
Gould. With over 450 Illustrations in the Text and 13 Photo- 
gravure Plates. Large quarto. 36^. 

This study of the most extraordinary life in history is written rather for the general 
reader than for the military student, and while following the main lines of 
Napoleon's career, is concerned chiefly with the development of his character and 
his personal qualities. Special stress is laid on his early life — the period in which 
his mind and character took their definite shape and direction. 

The great feature of the book is its wealth of illustration. There are over 450 
illustrations, large and small, in the text, and there are also more than a dozen 
full page photogravures. Every important incident of Napoleon's career has 
its illustration, while there are a large number of portraits of his contemporaries, 
reproductions of famous pictures, of contemporary caricatures, of his handwriting, 
etc. etc. 

It is not too much to say that no such magnificent book on Napoleon has ever been 
published. 

VICTOR HUGO 
THE LETTERS OF VICTOR HUGO. Translated from the 
French by F. Clarke, M.A. In Two Volumes. Demy ^vo. 
los. 6d. each. Vol. I. 

This is the first volume of one of the most interesting and important collection of 
letters ever published in France. The correspondence dates from Victor Hugo's 
boyhood to his death, and none of the letters have been published before. The 
arrangement is chiefly chronological, but where there is an interesting set of 
letters to one person these are arranged together. The first volume contains, 
among others, (i) Letters to his father ; (2) to his young wife ; (3) to his confessor, 
Lamennais ; (4) a very important set of about fifty letters to Sainte-Beuve ; (5) 
letters about his early books and plays. 

J. M. RIGG 

ST. ANSELM OF CANTERBURY : A Chapter in the 

History of Religion. By J. M. Rigg, of Lincoln's Inn, 

Barrister-at-Law. Demy 8vo. "Js. 6d. 

This work gives for the first time in moderate compass a complete portraitof Sf. 
Anselm, exhibiting him in his intimate and interior as well as in his public life.' 
Thus, while the great ecclesiastico-political struggle in which he played so prominent 
a part is fully dealt with, unusual prominence is given to the profound and subtle 
speculations by which he permanently influenced theological and metaphysical 
thought ; while it will be a surprise to most readers to find him also appearing as 
the author of some of the most exquisite religious poetry in the Latin language. ' 

EDWARD GIBBON 

THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE] 
By PZdward Gibbon. A New Edition, edited with Notes, 
Appendices, and Maps by J. B. Bury, M.A., Fellow of Trinity 
College, Dublin. In Seven Vobimes. Demy Svo, gilt top. 8/. bd. 
each. Crown Zvo. ds. each. Vol. II. 



4 Messrs. Methuen's Announcements 

W, M. FLINDEE 1 PETRIE 

A HISTORY OF EGYPT, from the Earliest Times to 
THE Present Day. Edited by W. M. Flinders Petrie, D.C.L., 
LL.D., Professor of Egyptology at University College. Fully 
Illustrated. In Six Volumes. Crown 8vo. 6s. each. 

Vol. II. XVII. -XVIII. Dynasties. W. M. F. Petrie. 

' A history written in the spirit of scientific precision so worthily represented by Dr. 
Petrie and his school cannot but promote sound and accurate study, and supply a 
vacant place in the English literature of Egyptology.' — Times. 

J. WELLS 

A SHORT HISTORY OF ROME. By J. Wells, M.A., Fellow 
and Tutor of Wadham Coll., Oxford. With 4 Maps. Crown 8vo. 
y. 6d. 350//. 

This book is intended for the Middle and Upper Forms of Public Schools and for 
Pass Students at the Universities. It contains copious Tables, etc. 

H. DE B. 6IBBINS 

THE HISTORY OF ENGLISH INDUSTRY. By H. DE B. 

GiBBlNS, M.A. With 5 Maps. Demy 8vo. los. 6d. Pp. 450. 

This book is written with the view of affording a clear view of the main facts of 
English Social and Industrial History placed in due perspective. Beginning 
with prehistoric times, it passes in review the growth and advance of industry 
up to the nineteenth century, showing its gradual development and jjrogress. 
The author has endeavoured to place before his readers the history of industry 
as a connected whole in which all these developments have their proper place. 
The book is illustrated by Maps, Diagrams, and Tables, and aided by copious 
Footnotes. 

MRS. OLIPHANT 

THOMAS CHALMERS. By Mrs. Oliphant. Second Editwti. 
Crown 8vo. y. 6d. [Leaders of Religion. 



Naval and Military 



DAVID HANNAY 

A SHORT HISTORY OF THE ROYAL NAVY, from 

Early Times to the Present Day. By David Hannay. 

Illustrated. Demy 8vo. i '^s. 

This book aims at giving an account not only of the fighting we have done at sea, 
but of the growth of the service, of the part the Navy has played in the develop- 
ment of the Empire, and of , its inner life. The author has endeavoured to avoid 
the mistake of sacrificing the earlier periods of naval history — the very interesting 
wars with Holland in the seventeenth century, for instance, or the American 
War of 1779-1783 — to the later struggle with Revolutionary and Imperial France. 



Messrs. Methuen's Announcements 5 

col. cooper king 

A SHORT HISTORY OF THE BRITISH ARMY. By Lieut.- 
Colonel Cooper King, of the Staff College, Camberley. Illustrated. 
Demy Svo. "js. 6d. 

This volume aims at describing the nature of the different armies that have been 
formed in Great Britain, and how from the early and feudal levies the present 
standing army came to be. The changes in tactics, uniform, and armament are 
briefly touched upon, and. the campaigns in which the army has shared have 
been so far followed as to explain the part played by British regiments in them. 

G. W. STEEVENS 

NAVAL POLICY : With a Description of English and 
Foreign Navies. By G. W. Steevens. Demy Svo. 6s. 

This book is a description of the British and other more important navies of the world, 
with a sketch of the lines on which our naval policy might possibly be developed. 
It describes our recent naval policy, and shows what our naval force really is. A 
detailed but non-technical account is given of the instruments of modern warfare — 
guns, armour, engines, and the like — with a view to determine how far we are 
abreast of modern invention and modern requirements. An ideal policy is then 
sketched for the building and manning of our fleet ; and the last chapter is 
devoted to docks, coaling-stations, and especially colonial defence. 



Theology 



F. B. JEVONS 

AN INTRODUCTION TO THE HISTORY OF RELIGION. 
By F. B. Jevons, M.A., Litt.D., Fellow of the University of 
Durham. DemySvo. \is. 6d. 

This is the third number of the series of ' Theological Handbooks ' edited by Dr. 
Robertson of Durham, in which have already appeared Liv. Gibson's ' XXXIX. 
Articles' and Mr. Ottley's 'Incarnation.' 

Mr. F. B. Jevons' ' Introduction to the History of Religion' treats of early religion, 
from the point of view of Anthropology and Folk-lore ; and is the first attempt 
that has been made in any language to weave together the results of recent 
investigations into such topics as Sympathetic Magic, Taboo, Totemism, 
Fetishism, etc., so as to present a systematic account of the growth of primitive 
religion and the development of early religious institutions. 

W. YORKE FAUSSETT 

THE DE CATECHIZANDIS RUDIBUS OF ST. AUGUS- 
TINE. Edited, with Introduction, Notes, etc., by W. Yorke 
Faussett, M.A., late Scholar of Balliol Coll. Crown Zvo. y. 6d. 

An edition of a Treatise on the Essentials of Christian Doctrine, and the best 
methods of impressing them on candidates for baptism. The editor bestows upon 
this patristic work the same care which a treatise of Cicero might claim. There 
is a general Introduction, a careful Analysis, a full Commentary, and other useful 
matter. No better introduction to the study of the Latin Fathers, their style and 
diction, could be found than this treatise, which also has no lack of modern interest. 



6 Messrs. Methuen's Announcements 
General Literature 

C. F. ANDREWS 

CHRISTIANITY AND THE LABOUR QUESTION. By 

C. F. Andrews, B.A. Croivii Zvo. 2s. 6d. 

R. E. STEEL 

MAGNETISM AND ELECTRICITY. By R. Elliott 
Steel, M.A., F.C.S. With Illustrations. Crown Svo. 45. 6^/. 

G. LOWES DICKINSON 

THE GREEK VIEW OF LIFE. By G. L. Dickinson, 

Fellow of King's College, Cambridge. Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. 

[ University Extension Series. 

J. A. HOBSON 

THE PROBLEM OF THE UNEMPLOYED. By J. A. 
HOBSON, B.A., Author of 'The Problems of Poverty.' Crown 8vo. 
2s. 6d. [Social Questions Series. 

S. E. BALLY 

GERMAN COMMERCIAL CORRESPONDENCE. By S. 
E. Bally, Assistant Master at the Manchester Grammar School. 
Crown Svo. 2s. [Commercial Series. 

L. F. PRICE 

ECONOMIC ESSAYS. By L. F. Price, M.A., Fellow of Oriel 
College, Oxford. Crown Svo. 6s. 

This book consists of a number of Studies in Economics and Industrial and Social 
Problems. 

Fiction 

MARIE CORELLI'S ROMANCES 

FIRST COMPLETE AND UNIFORM EDITION 

Large crown %vo. 6s. 
Messrs. Methuen beg to announce that they have commenced the pub- 
lication of a New and Uniform Edition of Marie Corelli's Romances. 
This Edition is revised by the Autlior, and contains new Prefaces. The 
volumes are being issued at short intervals in the following order : — 

I. A ROMANCE OF TWO WORLDS. 2. VENDETTA. 
3. THELMA. 4. ARDATH. 

5. THE SOUL OF LILITH. 6. WORMWOOD. 

7. BARABBAS. 8. THE SORROWS OF SATAN. 



Messrs. Methuen's Announcements 7 

BARING GOULD 

DARTMOOR IDYLLS. By S. Baring Gould. Cr. 2>vo. 6s.^ 
GUAVAS THE TINNER. By S. Baring Gould, Author of 
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THE PENNYCOMEQUICKS. By S. Baring Gould. 

New Edition. Crown ^vo. 6s. 
A new edition, uniform with the Author's other novels. 

LUCAS MALET 

THE CARISSIMA. By LucAS Malet. Author of ' The Wages of 

Sin,' etc. Crown 2>vo. 6s. 
This is the first novel which Lucas Malet has written since her very powerful ' The 
Wages of Sin." 

ARTHUR MORRISON 

A CHILD OF THE JAGO. By Arthur Morrison. Author 

of 'Tales of Mean Streets.' Crown Zvo. 6s. 

This, the first long story which Mr. ISIorrison has written, is like his remarkable 
' Tales of Mean Streets," a realistic study of East End life. 

W. E. NORRIS 
CLARISSA FURIOSA. By W. E. NORRIS, 'Author of 'The 
Rogue,' etc. Crown %vo. 6s. 

L. COPE COKNFORD 
CAPTAIN JACOBUS : A ROMANCE OF HIGHWAYMEN. 
By L. Cope Cornford. Illustrated. Crown Svo. 6s. 

J. BLOUNDELLE BURTON 
DENOUNCED. By J. Bloundelle Burton, Author of ' In 
the Day of Adversity,' etc. Crown Svo. 6s. 

J. MACLAREN COBBAN 

WILT THOU HAVE THIS WOMAN? By J. M. Cobban, 
Author of ' The King of Andaman.' Crown %vo. 6s. 

J. F. BREWER 

THE 'SPECULATORS. By J. F. Brewer. Crown Zvo. 6s. 

A. BALFOUR 

BY STROKE OF SWORD. By Andrew Balfour. Crown 
Svo. 6s. 



8 Messrs. Methuen's Announcements 

M. A. OWEN 

THE DAUGHTER OF ALOUETTE. By Mary A. Owen. 

Crown Svo. 6s. 
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KONALD ROSS 

THE SPIRIT OF STORM. By Ronald Ross, Author of 
' The Child of Ocean. ' Crown 8z>o. 6s. 
A romance of the Sea. 

J. A. BAREY 

IN THE GREAT DEEP : Tales of the Sea. By J. A. 
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JAMES GORDON 

THE VILLAGE AND THE DOCTOR. By James Gordon. 
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BERTRAM MITFORD 

THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER. By Bertram Mitford. 
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A story of South Africa. 

A. SHIELD 

THE SQUIRE OF WANDALES. By A. Shield. CrownSvo. 

2s. 6d. 

G. W. STEEVENS 

MONOLOGUES OF THE DEAD. By G. W. Steevens. 

Foolscap 8vo. 3^. 6d. 

A series_ of Soliloquies in which famous men of antiquity — Julius Cassar, Nero, 
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language of to-day. 

S. GORDON 

A HANDFUL OF EXOTICS. By S. Gordon. Crowti Zvo. 
2,s. 6d. 
A volume of stories of Jewish life in Russia. 

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2s. 6d. 

H. A. KENNEDY 

A MAN WITH BLACK EYELASHES. By H. A. Kennedy. 
Crown 8vo. 3.?. 6d. 



A LIST OF 

Messrs. Methuen's 

PUBLICATIONS 



Poetry 

Rudyard Kipling. BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS; And 
Other Verses. By Rudyard Kipling. Ninth Edition. Crown 
%vo. ds. 

' Mr. Kipling's verse is strong, vivid, full of character. . . . Unmistakable genius 

rings in every line.' — Times. 
' " Barrack-Room Ballads " contains some of the best work that Mr. Kipling has 
ever done, which is saying a good deal. " Fuzzy- Wuzzy," " Gunga Din," and 
" Tommy," are, in our opinion, altogether superior to anything of the kind that 
English literature has hitherto produced." — Athenceum. 
'The_ ballads teem with imagination, they palpitate with emotion. We read them 
with laughter and tears ; the metres throb in our pulses, the cunningly ordered 
words tingle with life ; and if this be not poetry, what \zV— Pall Mall Gazette. 

"Q." THE GOLDEN POMP : A Procession of English Lyrics 
from Surrey to Shirley, arranged by A. T. QuiLLER Couch. Crown 
Sz>o, Buckram. 6s. 
' A delightful volume : a really golden "Pomp." '—Spectator. 

" Q." GREEN BAYS : Verses and Parodies. By " O.," Author 

of 'Dead Man's Rock,' etc. Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 35. 6d. 

'The verses display a rare and versatile gift of parody, great command of metre, and 
a very pretty turn of humour.' — Ti7iies. 

H. C. Beeching. LYRA SACRA : An Anthology of Sacred Verse. 
Edited by H. C. Beeching, M.A. C^-oivn %vo. Buckram, ds. 
'An anthology of high excellence.' — AthencBUDi. 
' A charming selection, which maintains a lofty standard of excellence.' — Times. 

W. B. Yeats. AN ANTHOLOGY OF IRISH VERSE. 
Edited by W. B. Yeats. Crown 2,z'o. ^s. 6d. 

' An attractive and catholic selection.' — Times. 

' It is edited by the most original and most accomplished of modern Irish poets, and 
against his editing but a single objection can be brought, namely, that it excludes 
from the collection his own delicate lyrics.' — Saturday Review. 

E. Mackay. A SONG OF THE SEA : My Lady of Dreams, 
AND OTHER PoEMs. By Eric Mackay, Author of 'The Love 
Letters of a Violinist.' Second Edition. Fcap. 2>vo, gilt top. $s. 
' Everywhere Mr. Mackay displays himself the master of a style marked by all the 
characteristics of the best rhetoric. He has a keen sense of rhythm and of general 
balance; his verse is excellently sonorous.' — Globe. 
' Throughout the book the poetic workmanship is fine.'— Scotsf/tan. 

A 2 



lo Messrs. Methuen's List 

Ibsen. BRAND. A Drama by Henrik Ibsen. Translated by 
William Wilson. Second Edition. Crown %vo. 3^. 6</. 
'The greatest world-poem of the nineteenth century next to "Faust." It is in 
the same set with "Agamemnon," with " Lear," with the literature that we now 
instinctively regard as high and holy.' — Daily Chronicle. 

"A. G." VERSES TO ORDER. By "A. G." Cr.Zvo. zs.bd. 

net. 

A small volume of verse by a writer whose initials are well known to Oxford men. 
' A capital specimen of lifrht academic poetry. These verses are very bright and 
engaging, easy and sufficiently witty. — St. James's Gazette. 

F. Langbridge. BALLADS OF THE BRAVE: Poems of 
Chivalry, Enterprise, Courage, and Constancy, from the Earliest 
Times to the Present Day. Edited, with Notes, by Rev. F. Lang- 
bridge. Crown 8vo. Buckram, y. 6d. School Edition. 2s. 6d. 

' A very happy conception happily carried out. These "Ballads of the Brave" are 
intended to suit the real tastes of boys, and will suit the taste of the great majority.' 
— Spectator. ' The book is full of splendid things.' — World- 

Lang and Craigie. THE POEMS OF ROBERT BURNS. 
Edited by Andrew Lang and W. A. Craigie. With Portrait. 
Demy 8vo, gilt top. bs. 

This edition contains a carefully collated Text, numerous Notes critical and textual, 
a critical and biographical Introduction, and a Glossary. 

'Among the editions in one volume, Mr. Andrew Lang's will take the place of 
authority.' — Times. 

' To the general public the beauty of its type, and the fair proportions of its pages, as 
well as the excellent chronological arrangement of the poems, should make it 
acceptable enough. Mr. Lang and his publishers have certainly succeeded in 
producing an attractive popular edition of the poet, in which the brightly written 
biographical introduction is not the least notable feature.' — Glasgow Herald. 



English Classics 

Edited by W. E. Henley. 



'Very dainty volumes are these; the paper, type, and light-green binding are all 
very agreeable to the eye. Simplex munditiis is the phrase that might be applied 
to them.' — Globe. 

' The volumes are strongly bound in green buckram, are of a convenient size, and 
pleasant to look upon, so that whether on the shelf, or on the table, or in the hand 
the possessor is thoroughly content with them.' — Guardian. 

'The paper, type, and binding of this edition are in excellent taste, and leave 
nothing to be desired by lovers of literature.' — Standard. 

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS OF TRISTRAM SHANDY. 
By Lawrence Sterne. With an Introduction by Charles 
Whibley, and a Portrait. 2 vols. "js. 

THE COMEDIES OF WILLIAM CONGREVE With 
an Introduction by G. S. Street, and a Portrait. 2 vols. "js. 



Messrs. Methuen's List ii 

THE ADVENTURES OF HAJJI BABA OF ISPAHAN. 
By James Morier. With an Introduction by E. G. Browne, W. A. , 
and a Portrait. 2 -vols. "js. 

THE LIVES OF DONNE, WOTTON, HOOKER, HER- 
BERT, AND SANDERSON. By Izaak Walton. With an 
Introduction by Vernon Blackburn, and a Portrait. 3^. 6d. 

THE LIVES OF THE ENGLISH POETS. By Samuel 
Johnson, LL.D. With an Introduction by J. H. Millar, and a 
Portrait. 3 vols, los, 6d. 



Illustrated Books 

Jane Barlow. THE BATTLE OF THE FROGS AND MICE, 
translated by Jane Barlow, Author of « Irish Idylls,' and pictured 
by F. D. Bedford. Small 4/0. 6s. net. 

S. Baring Gould. A BOOK OF FAIRY TALES retold by S. 
Baring Gould. With numerous illustrations and initial letters by 
Arthur J. Gaskin. Second Edition. Crown %vo. Buckram. 6s. 
'Mr. Baring Gould has done a good deed, and is deserving of gratitude, in re- writing 
in honest, simple style the old stories that delighted the childhood of " our fathers 
and grandfathers." We do not think he has omitted any of our favourite stories, 
the stories that are commonly regarded as merely ' ' old fashioned." As to the form 
of the book, and the printing, which is by Messrs. Constable, it were diflacult to 
commend overmuch. — Saturday Review. 

S. Baring Gould. OLD ENGLISH FAIRY TALES. Col- 
lected and edited by S. Baring Gould. With Numerous Illustra- 
tions by F. D. Bedford. Second Edition. CrownSvo. Buckram. 6s. 
'A charming volume, which children will be sure to appreciate. The stories have 
been selected with great ingenuity from various old ballads and folk-tales, and, 
having been somewhat altered and readjusted, now stand forth, clothed in Mr. 
Baring Gould's delightful English, to enchant youthful readers. All the tales 
are good.' — Guardian. 

S. Baring Gould. A BOOK OF NURSERY SONGS AND 
RHYMES. Edited by S. Baring Gould, and Illustrated by the 
Birmingham Art School. Buckram, gilt top. Crown Svo. 6s. 
' The volume is very complete in its way, as it contains nursery songs to the number 
of 77> game-rhymes, and jingles. To the student we commend the sensible intro- 
duction, and the explanatory aotes. The volume is superbly printed on soft, 
thick paper, which it is a pleasure to touch ; and the borders and pictures are, as 
we have said, among the very best specimens wc have seen of the Gaskin school.' 
— Birtning^fiatt: Gazette, 



12 Messrs. Methuen's List 

H. C. Beeching. A BOOK OF CHRISTMAS VERSE. Edited 
by H. C. Beeching, M.A., and Illustrated by Walter Crane. 
Crown Svo, gilt top. ^s. 
K collection of the best verse inspired by the birth of Christ from the Middle Ages 
to the present d.iy. A distinction of the book is the large number of poems it 
contains by modern authors, a few of which are here printed for the first time. 
'An anthology which, from its unity of aim and high poetic excellence, has a better 
right to exist than most of its iAXo^s,.' —Guardian. 



History 



Gibbon. THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN 
EMPIRE. By Edward Gibbon. A New Edition, Edited with 
Notes, Appendices, and Maps, by J. B. Bury, M.A., Fellow of 
Trinity College, Dublin. In Seven Volumes. Demy Svo, Gilt top. 
85. (>d. each. Also crown Svo. 6s. each. Vol. I. 

' The time has certainly arrived for a new edition of Gibbon's great work._ . . . Pro- 
fessor Bury is the right man to undertake this task. His learning is amazing, 
both in extent and accuracy. The book is issued in a handy form, and at a 
moderate price, and it is admirably printed.' — Times. 

' The edition is edited as a classic should be edited, removing nothing, yet indicating 
the value of the text, and bringing it up to date. It promises to be of the utmost 
value, and will be a welcome addition to many libraries.' — Scotsman. 

'This edition, so far as one may judge from the first instalment, is a marvel of 
erudition and critical skill, and it is the very minimum of praise to predict that the 
seven volumes of it will supersede Dean Milman's as the standard edition of our 
great historical classic' — Glasgow Herald. 

' The beau-ideal Gibbon has arrived at last.' — Sketch. 

' At last there is an adequate modern edition of Gibbon. . . . The best edition the 
nineteenth century could produce.' — Manchester Guardian. 

Flinders Petrie. A HI STORY OF EGYPT, from the Earliest 
Times to the Present Day. Edited by W. M. Flinders 
Petrie, D.C.L., LL.D., Professor of Egyptology at University 
College. Fully Illustrated, In Six Volumes. Crown %vo. (>s. each. 

Vol. I. Prehistoric Times to XVI. Dynasty. W. M. F. 
Petrie. Second Edition. 
• A history written in the spirit of scientific precision so worthily represented by Dr. 
Petrie and his school cannot but promote sound and accurate study, and 
supply a vacant place in the English literature of Egyptology.' — Times. 

Flinders Petrie. EGYPTIAN TALES. Edited by W. M. 
Flinders Petrie. Illustrated by Tristram Ellis. - In Two 
Volumes. Crown Svo. y. 6d. each. 
'A valuable addition to the literature of comparative folk-lore. The drawings are 
* really illustrations in the literal sense of the word.' —Glohe. 
' It has a scientific value to the student of history and a.Tchso\ogy.'— Scotsman. 
'Invaluable as a picture of life in Palestine and Esypt-'- -Ocrily A^euis. 



Messrs. Methuen's List 13 

Flinders Petrie. EGYPTIAN DECORATIVE ART. By 
W. M. Flinders Petrie, D.C.L. With 120 Illustrations. Crown 
Svo. 3^. 6d. 

' Professor Flinders Petrie is not only a profound Egyptologist, but an accomplished 
student of comparative archjeology. In these lectures, delivered at the Royal 
Institution, he displays both qualifications with rare skill in elucidating the 
development of decorative art in Egypt, and in tracing its influence on the 
art of other countries. Few experts can speak with higher authority and wider 
knowledge than the Professor himself, and in any case his treatment of his sub- 
ject is full of learning and insight.' — Times. 

S. Baring Gould. THE TRAGEDY OF THE C^SARS. 

The Emperors of the Julian and Claudian Lines. With numerous 

Illustrations from Busts, Gems, Cameos, etc. By S. Baring Gould, 

Author of ' Mehalah,' etc. Third Edition. Royal Zvo. \^s. 

' A most splendid and fascinating book on a subject of undying interest. The great 

feature of the book is the use the author has made of the existing portraits of the 

Caesars, and the admirable critical subtlety he has exhibited in dealing with this 

line ot research. It is brilliantly written, and the illustrations are supplied on a 

scale of profuse magnificence.' — Daily Chronicle. 

' The volumes will in no sense disappoint the general reader. Indeed, in their way, 

there is nothing in any sense so good in English. . . . Mr. Baring Gould has 

presented his narrative in such away as not to make one dull page.' — AthoicEum. 

A. Clark. THE COLLEGES OF OXFORD : Their History, 

their Traditions. By Members of the University. Edited by A. 

Clark, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Lincoln College. Zvo. 12s. 6d. 

'A work which will certainly be appealed to for many years as the standard book on 

the Colleges of Oxford.' — Athenceutn. 

Perrens. THE HISTORY OF FLORENCE FROM 1434 
TO 1492. By F. T. Perrens. Translated by Hannah Lynch. 
%vo. I2S. 6d. 

A history of Florence under the domination of Cosimo, Piero, and Lorenzo de 

Medicis. 

' This is a standard book by an honest and intelligent historian, who has deserved 
well of all who are interested in Italian history.' — Manchester Guardian. 

E. L. S. Horsburgh. THE CAMPAIGN OF WATERLOO. 

ByE. L. S. HoRSBURGH, B.A. With Plans. Crown 2,vo. 5^. 

'A brilliant essay — simple, sound, and thorough.' — Daily Chrotiicle. 

' A study, the most concise, the most lucid, the most critical that has been produced.' 
— Bir>ninglia»t Mercury, 

' A careful and precise study, a fair and impartial criticism, and an eminently read- 
able book.' — Admiralty and Horse Guards Gazette. 

H.B. George. BATTLES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. ByH. B. 
George, M.A., Fellow of New College, Oxford. IVith numerous 
Plans. Third Edition. Crown Svo. 6s. 
' Mr. George has undertaken a very useful task— that of making military .-iffairs in- 
telligible and instructive to non-military readers — and has executed it with laud- 
able intelligence and industry, and with a large measure of success.' — Times. 
'This book is almost a revelation ; and we heartily congratulate the author on his 
work and on the prospect of the reward he has well deserved for so much con- 
scientious and sustained labour.' — Daily Chronicle. 



14 Messrs. Methuen's List 

0. Browning. A SHORT HISTORY OF MEDIEVAL ITALY, 
A.D. 1250-1530. By Oscar Browning, Fellow and Tutor of King's 
College, Cambridge. Second Edition. In Two Volumes. Crown 
?)V0. ^s. each. 

Vol. I. 1250-1409. — Guelphs and Ghibellines. 

Vol. II. 1409- 1 530. — The Age of the Condottieri. 

'A vivid picture of medijeval Italy.' — Standard. 

' Mr. Browning is to be congratulated on the production of a work of immense 
labour and learning.' — Westminster Gazette. 

O'Grady. THE STORY OF IRELAND. By Standish 
O'Grady, Author of ' Finn and his Companions.' Cr. Svo. 2s. 6d. 
' Most delightful, most stimulating. Its racy humour, its original imaginings, 

make it one of the freshest, breeziest volumes.' — Methodist Times. 
'A survey at once graphic, acute, and quaintly written.' — Times. 



Biography 



R. L. Stevenson. VAILIMA LETTERS. By Robert Louis 
Stevenson. With an Etched Portrait by William Strang, and 
other Illustrations. Second Edition. Crown Svo. Buckram. fs.Sd. 

' The Vailima Letters are rich in all the varieties of that charm which have secured 

for Stevenson the affection of many others besides "journalists, fellow-novelists, 

and boys.'" — The Times. 
' Few publications have in our time been more eagerly awaited than these " Vaillm* 

Letters," giving the first fruits of the correspondence of Robert Louis Stevenson. 

But, high as the tide of expectation has run, no reader can possibly be disappointed 

in tlie result.' — Si. James's Gazette. 
' For the student of English literature (hese letters indeed are a treasure. They 

are more like " Scott's Journal " in kirj than any other literary autobiography.' 

— National Observer. 

F. W. Joyce. THE LIFE OF SIR FREDERICK GORE 
OUSELEY. By F. W. Joyce, M.A. With Portraits and Illustra- 
tions. Crown Svo. "js. 6d. 
' All the materials have been well digested, and the book gives us a complete picture 
of the life of one who will ever be held in loving remembrance by his personal 
friends, and who in the history of music in this_ country will always occupy a 
prominent position on account of the many services he rendered to the art.' — 
Musical News. 
' This book has been undertaken in quite the right spirit, and written with sympathy, 
insight, and considerable literary skill.' — Times. 

W. G. CoUingwood. THE LIFE OF JOHN RUSKiN. By 
W. G. COLLINGWOOD, M.A., Editor of Mr. Ruskin's Poems. With 
numerous Portraits, and 13 Drawings by Mr. Ruskin. Second 
Edition. 2 vols. Svo. 32J-. 

' No more magnificent volumes have been published for a long time.' — Times. 

' It is long since we had a biography with such delights of substance and of form. 
Such a book is a pleasure for the d.-iy, and a jov for ^ver.'— Daily Chronicle. 

'A noble monument of a noble subject. One of the most beautiful books about one 
of the noblest lives of our century.'— C/fW^cw Herald. 



Messrs. Methuen's List 15 

C. Waldstein. JOHN RUSKIN : a Study. By Charles 
Waldstein, M.A., Fellow of King's College, Cambridge. With a 
Photogravure Portrait after Professor Herkomer. Fast 8vo. ^s, 

'A thoughtful, impartial, well-written criticism of Ruskin's teaching, intended to 
separate what the author regards as valuable and permanent from what is transient 
and erroneous in the great master's writing.' — Daily Chronicle. 

W. H. Hutton. THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. By 
W. H. Hutton, M.A., Author of ' William Laud.' With Portraits. 
Crown Svo. ^s. 

' The book lays good claim to high rank among our biographies. It is excellently, 

even lovingly written.' — Scotsman. 
'An excellent monograph.' — Times. 
'A most complete presentation.' — Daily Chronicle. 

M. Kaufmann, CHARLES KINGSLEY. By M. Kaufmann, 

M.A. Cro'djn ?,z'o. Buckram. 55. 

A biography of K.ngsley, especially dealing with his achievements in social reform. 
'The author has certainly gone about his work with conscientiousness and industry. — 
Sheffield Daity Telegraph. 

A. F. Robbins. THE EARLY LIFE OF WILLIAM EWART 

GLADSTO}JE. By A. F. Robbins. With Portraits. Crown 

?>vo. 6s. 

'Considerable labour and much skill of presentation have not been unworthily 
expended on this interesting work.' — Times. 

Clark Russell. THE LIFE OF ADMIRAL LORD COL- 
LINGWOOD. By W. Clark Russell, Author of « The Wreck 
of the Grosvenor.' With Illustrations by F. Brangwyn. Third 
Edition. Zrozvn Svo. 6s. 

' A most excellent and wholesome book, which we should like to see in the hands of 

every boy in the country.' — St. James's Gazette. 
'A really good book.' — Saturday Review. 

Southey. ENGLISH SEAMEN (Howard, Clifford, Hawkins, 
Drake, Cavendish). By Robert Southey. Edited, with an 
Introduction, by David Hannay. Second Edition. Crown Svo. 6s. 

' Admirable ar.d well-told stories of our naval history.' — Army and Navy Gazette. 

' A brave, inspiriting book.' — Black and White. 

' The work of a master of style, and delightful all through.' — Daily Chronicle. 



General Literature 



S. Baring Gould. OLD COUNTRY LIFE. By S. Baring 

Gould, Author of ' Mehalah,' etc. With Sixty-seven Illustrations 
by W. Parkinson, F. D. Bedford, and F. Masey. Large 
Crown Svo. \os. 6d. Fifth and Cheaper Edition. 6s. 

' " Old Country Life," as healthy wholesome reading, full of breezy life and move- 
ment, full of quaint stories vigorously told, will not be excelled by any book to be 
published throughout the year. Sound, heany, and English to the core.' — World. 



i6 Messrs. Methuen's List 

S. Baring Gould. HISTORIC ODDITIES AND STRANGE 

EVENTS. By S. Baring Gould. Third Edition. Crown%vo. 6j. 
' A collection of exciting and entertaining chapters. The whole volume is delightful 
reading.' — Times. 

S. Baring Gould. FREAKS OF FANATICISM. By S. Baring 

Gould. Third Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
' Mr. Baring Gould has a keen eye for colour and effect, and the subjects he has 
chosen give ample scope to his descriptive and analytic faculties. A perfectly 
fascinating book.' — Scottish Leader. 

S. Baring Gould. A GARLAND OF COUNTRY SONG : 
English Folk Songs with their Traditional Melodies. Collected and 
arranged by S. Baring Gould and H. Fleetwood Sheppard. 
Demy t^to. 6s. 

S. Baring Gould. SONGS OF THE WEST: Traditional 
Ballads and Songs of the West of England, with their Traditional 
Melodies. Collected by S. Baring Gould, M.A., and H. Fleet- 
wood Sheppard, M. A. Arranged for Voice and Piano. In 4 Parts 
(containing 25 Songs each), Parts /., //., ///., 35. each. Part 
IV., 5 J. In one Vol., French morocco, 15^. 
'A rich collection of humour, pathos, grace, and poetic iaxicy.'— Saturday Review. 

S. Baring Gould. YORKSHIRE ODDITIES AND STRANGE 

EVENTS. Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 

S. Baring Gould. STRANGE SURVIVALS AND SUPER- 
STITIONS. With Illustrations. By S. Baring Gould. Crozvn 
8vo. Second Edition. 6s. 
' We have read Mr. Baring Gould's book from beginning to end. It is full of quaint 
and various information, and there is not a dull page in it. ' — Motes and Queries. 

S. Baring Gould. THE DESERTS OF SOUTHERN 
FRANCE. By S. Baring. Gould, With numerous Illustrations 
by F. D. Bedford, S. Hutton, etc. 2 vols. Demy Svo. 32^. 

This book is the first serious attempt to describe the great barren tableland that 
extends to the south of Limousin in the Department of Ave/ron, Lot, etc., a 
country of dolomite cliffs, and caiions, and subterranean riveLs. The region is 
full of prehistoric and historic interest, relics of cave-dwelbrs, of mediseval 
robbers, and of the English domination and the Hundred Years' War. 

'His two richly-illustrated volumes are full of matter of interest to the geologist, 
the archaeologist, and the student of history and manners.' — Sco'.sman. 

' It deals with its subject in a mauner which rarely fails to arrest attention.' — Times. 

R. S. Baden-Powell. THE DOWNFALL OF PRZMPEH. A 

Diary of Life with the Native Levy in Ashanti, 1895. By Lieut.-Col. 
Baden-Powell. With 21 Illustrations, a Map, and a Special 
Chapter on the Political and Commercial Position of Ashanti by Sir 
George Baden-Powell, K.C.M.G., M.P. Demy8vo. \os. 6d. 

' A compact, faithful, most readable record of the campaign.' — Daily Neivs. 
' A bluff and vigorous narrative.' — Glas^oiv Herald, 
' A really interesting book.' — Yorkshire Post. 



Messrs. Methuen's List 17 

W. E. Gladstone. THE SPEECHES AND PUBLIC AD- 
DRESSES OF THE RT. HON. W. E. GLADSTONE, M.P. 
Edited by A. W. Hutton, M.A., and H. J. Cohen, M.A. With 
Portraits. Svo. Vols. IX. and X. \2s. 6d. each. 

Henley and Whibley. A BOOK OF ENGLISH PROSE. 
Collected by W. E. Henley and Charles Whibley. Cr. Svo. 6s. 

'A unique volume of extracts — an art gallery of early prose.' — Birmin^hatit Post. 

'An admirable companion to Mr. Henley's "Lyra Heroics.."'— -Saturday J\evieu>. 

' Quite delightful. The cl oice made has been excellent, and the volume has been 
most admirably printed by Messrs. Constable. A greater treat for those not weh 
acquainted with pre-Restoration prose could not be imagined.' — Athenaum. 

J. Y7ells. OXFORD AND OXFORD LIFE. By Members of 
the University. Edited by J. Wells, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of 
Wadham College. Crown Svo. 2^- 6a'. 
This work contains an account of life at Oxford — intellectual, social, and religious — 
a careful estimate of necessary expenses, a review of recent changes, a statement 
of the present position of the University, and chapters on Women's Education, 
aids to study, and University Extension. 
' We congratulate Mr. Wells on the production of a readable and intelligent account 
of Oxford as it is at the present time, written by persons who are possessed of a 
close acquaintance with the system and life of the University.' — Atlieturum. 

W. M. Dixon. A PRIMER OF TENNYSON. By W. M. 
Dixon, M.A., Professor of English Literature at Mason College. 
Crown Svo. zs. 6d. 

' Much sound and well-expressed criticism and acute literary judgments. The biblio- 
graphy is a boon." — Speaker. 

' No better estimate of the late Laureate's work has yet been published. His sketch 
of Tennyson's life contains everything essential ; his bibliography is full and con- 
cise : his literary criticism is most interesting.' — Glasgow Herald. 

W. A. Craigie. A PRIMER OF BURNS. By W. A. Craigie. 

Crown Svo. 2s. 6d. 

This book is planned on a method similar to the ' Primer of Tennyson.' It has also 

a glossary. 
' A valuable addition to the literatture of the poet.' — Times. 
' An excellent short account.' — Pall Mall Gazette. 
' An admirable introduction.' — Globe. 

L. Whibley. GREEK OLIGARCHIES : THEIR ORGANISA- 
TION AND CHARACTER. By L. Whibley, M.A., Fellow 
of Pembroke College, Cambridge. Crown Svo. 6s. 

'An exceedingly useful handbook : a careful and well-arranged study of an obscure 

subject. ' — Times. 
' Mr. ^Vhibley is never tedious or pedantic.'— Pa// Mall Gazette. 

W. B. Worsfold. SOUTH AFRICA : Its History and its Future. 
By W. Basil Worsfold, M.A. With a Map. Crown Svo. 6s. 
'An intensely interesting book.' — Daily Chronicle. 
' A monumental work compressed into a very moderate compass.'— H'Vr^ 

A3 



iS Messrs. Methuen's List 

C. E. Pearson. ESSAYS AND CRITICAL REVIEWS. Bv 
C. H. Pearson, M.A., Author of ' National Life and Characlei.'' 
Edited, with a Biographical Sketch, by H. A. Strong, M.A., 
LL.D. With a Portrait. Demy %vo. los. 6d. 
' These fine essays illustraie the great breadth of his historical and literary syin- 
^ pathies and the remarkable variety of his intellectual interests.'— <P/<zxp-ow Hci'ald. 
Remarkable for careful handling, breadth of view, and thorough knowledge.'— xJco);^- 
man. 
'Charming essays.' — Sp-ctator. 

Ouida. VIEWS AND OPINIONS. Y!.-. Ouida. Cnnun Zvo. 
Second Edition. f)s. 

' Ouida is outspoken, and the reader of this book vnll not have a dull moment. The 
book IS full of variety, and sparkles with entertaining matter.'—S/'eaAtr. 

J. S. Shedlock. THE PIANOFORTE SONATA: Its Origin 

and Development. By J. S. Shedlock. Crmvn Svo. 5J. 

' This v/ork should be in the possession of every musician rind amateur, for it not 
only embodies a concise and lucid history o) the orifjin of one of the most im- 
port.int forms of musical c niposition, but, by reason of llie painstaking research 
and accuracy of the author's statements, it is a very valuable work for reference.' 
— A tketicettm. 

E.M. Bowden. THE EXAMPLE OF BUDDHA: Being Quota- 
tion.s from Buddhist Literature for each Day in the Year Compiled 
by E. iNL Bowden. With Preface by Sir Edwin Arnold. Third 
Edition. l6nro, 2s. dd. 

J. Beever. PRACTICAL FLY-FISHING. Founded on 
Nature, by John Beever, late of the Thwaite House, Coniston. A 
New Edition, with a Memoir of tlie Author by W. G. COLLINGWOOD, 
M.A. Crown Zvo. 1$. 6d. 
A littliT book on Fly-Fishing by an old friend of Mr. Ruskin. 

Science 

Freudenreich. DAIRY BACTERIOLOGY. A Short Manual 
for the Use of Students. By Dr. Ed. von Freudenreich. 
Transhued from the German by J. R. AiNSWORTH Davis, B.A., 
F.C.P. Crown %7)o. zs. 6d. 

Clialmers MitcheiL OUTLINES OF BIOLOGY. By P. 

Chalmers Mitchell, M.A., F.Z.S. Fuliy Illuslrattd. Crown 

8vo. 6s. 

A text-book designed to cover the n'.w Schedule issued by cue Royal College of 
Physicians and Surgeons. 

G.P/[assee. A MONOGRAPH OF THE MYXOGASTRES. By 

George Massee. With 12 Coloured Plues. Royal %vo. i8j. ttet. 

' A work much in advance of any book in the lans;n?g:e tre^.tin;; of this group of 

organisms. It is indispensibie to every student of the Myxoga.-tres. The 

cciloujcd pl.-jtc-s de-.-tvc high pr.i'se for their accuricy and execution.'- jVisi/«?r. 



Messrs. Methuen's List 19 



Philosophy 



L. T. Hobhouse. THE THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE. By 
L. T. Hobhouse, Fellow and Tutor of Corpus College, Oxford. 
Demy Zvo. 2is, 

' The most important contribution to English philosophy since the publication of Mr. 
Bradley's " Appearance and Reality." Full of brilliant criticism and of positive 
theories which are models of lucid statement." — Glasgow Herald. 

' An elaborate and often brilliantly written volume. The treatment is one of gre.it 
freshness, and the illustrations are particularly numerous and z.\,l.'— Times. 

W. E. Fairbrother. THE PHILOSOPHY OF T. H. GREEN. 
By W. H. Fairbrother, M.A., Lecturer at Lincoln College, 
Oxford. Crown Svo. y. 6d. 
This volume is expository, not critical, and is intended for senior students at the 
Universities and others, as a statement of Green's teaching, and an introduction to 
the study of Idealist Philosophy. 
' In every way an admirable book. As an introduction to the writings of perhaps the 
most remarkable speculative thinker whom England has produced in the present 
century, nothing could be better than Mr. Fairbrother's exposition and criticism.' — 
Glas^tKV Herald. 

F. W. BusselL THE SCHOOL OF PLATO : its Origin and 
its Revival under the Roman Empire. By F. W. BusSELL, M.A., 
Fellow and Tutor of Brasenose College, Oxford. Demy'ivo. \os.(ia. 

' A highly valuable contribution to the history of ancient xhoM^X..'— Glasgow Herald. 

' A clever and stimulating book, provocative of thought and deserving careful reading.' 
— Manchester Guardian, 

F. S. Granger. THE WORSHIP OF THE ROMANS. By 
F. S. Granger, M.A., Litt.D., Professor of Philosophy at Univer- 
sity College, Nottingham. Crown Zvo. 6s. 
The author has attempted to delineate that group of beliefs which stood in close con- 
nection with the Roman religion, and among the subjects treated are Dreams, 
Nature Worship, Roman Magic, Divination, Holy Places, Victims, etc Thus 
the book is, apart from its immediate subject, a contribution to folk-lore and com- 
parative psychology. 
' A scholarly analysis of the religious ceremonies, beliefs, and superstitions of ancieat 
Rome, conducted in the new instructive light of comparative anthropology — 
Timts. 



20 Messrs. Methuen's List 

Theology 

E. C. S. Gibson. THE XXXIX. ARTICLES OF THE 
CHURCH OF ENGLAND. Edited with an Introduction by E. 
C. 8. Gibson, D.D., Vicar of Leeds, late Principal of Wells 
Theological College. In Two Volumes. Demy Svo. Js. 6d. each. 
Vol. I. Articles I.- VIII. 

' The tone maintained throughout is not that of the partial advocate, but the faithful 

exponent. ' — Scotstnan. 
'There are ample proofs of clearness of expression, sobriety of judgment, and breadth 

of view. . . . The book will be welcome to all students of the subject, and its sound, 

definite, and loyal theology ought to be of great service.'— JVational Observer. 
' So far from repelling the general reader, its orderly arrangement, lucid treatment, 

and felicity of diction invite and encourage his attention.' — Yorkshire Post. 

R. L. Ottley. THE DOCTRINE OF THE INCARNATION. 

By R, L. Ottley, M.A., late fellow of Magdalen College, Oxon., 

Principal of Pusey House. In Two Volumes. Demy Svo. 1 5 j. 
' Learned and reverent : lucid and well arranged." — Record. 
'Accurate, well ordered, and judicious.' — National Observer. 
' A clear and remarkably full account of the main currents of speculation. Scholarly 

precision . ._ . genuine tolerance . . . intense interest in his subject — are Mr. 

Ottley's merits. — Guardian. 

S. R. Driver. SERMONS ON SUBJECTS CONNECTED 
WITH THE OLD TESTAMENT. By S. R. Driver, D.D., 
Canon of Christ Church, Regius Professor of Hebrew in the Uni- 
versity of Oxford. Crown %vo. (>s. 
' A welcome companion to the author's famous ' Introduction.' No man can read these 
discourses without feeling that Dr. Driver is fully alive to the deeper teaching of 
the Old Testament." — Guardian. 

T. K. Cheyne. FOUNDERS OF OLD TESTAMENT CRITI- 
CISM : Biographical, Descriptive, and Critical Studies. By T. K. 
Cheyne, D.D., Oriel Professor of the Interpretation of Holy Scrip- 
ture at Oxford. Large crown Svo. 7s. 6d. 

This important book is a historical sketch of O. T. Criticism in the form of biographi- 
cal studies from the days of Eichhorn to those of Driver and Robertson Smith. 
It is the only book of its kind in English. 

* A very learned and instructive work.' — Times. 

C.H. Prior. CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. Edited by C.H. Prior, 
M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Pembroke College. Crown Svo. 6s. 
A volume of sermons preached before the University of Cambridge by yarious 

preachers, including the Archbishop of Canterbury and Bishop Westcott. 
'A representative collection. Bishop Westcott's is a noble sermon.' — Guardian. 

H. C. BeecMng. SERMONS TO SCHOOLBOYS. By H. C. 
Beeching, M.A., Rector of Yattendon, Berks. With a Preface by 
Canon ScOTT Holland. Crown Svo. 2s. 6d. 
Seven sermons preached befor« the boys of Bradfield College. 



Messrs. Methuen's List 21 

E. B. Layard. RELIGION IN BOYHOOD. Notes on the 
Religious Training of Boys. With a Preface by J. R. Illing- 
WORTH. By E. B. Layard, M.A. iSmo. is. 

2Detotional 2Boofe0* 

IVtiA Full-page Illustrations. Fcap. %vo. Buckram. 3j. 6rf. 
Padded fnorocco, ^s. 
THE IMITATION OF CHRIST. By Thomas A Kempis. 
With an Introduction by Dean Farrar. Illustrated by C. M. 
Gere, and printed in black and red. Second Edition, 
'Amongst all the innumerable English editions of the "Imitation," there can have 
been few which were prettier than this one, printed in strong and handsome type 
by Messrs. Constable, with all the glory of red initials, and the comfort of buckram 
binding.' — Glasgow Htrald. 

THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. By John Keble. With an Intro- 
duction and Notes by W. Lock, M.A.,Sub-Warden of Keble College, 
Ireland Professor at Oxford, Author of the ' Life of John Keble.' 
Illustrated by R. Anning Bell. 

' The present edition is annotated with all the care and insight to be expected_ from 
Mr. Lock. The progress and circumstances of its composition are detailed in the 
Introduction. There is an interesting Appendix on the MSS. of the "Christian 
Year," and another giving the order in which the poems were virritten. A "Short 
Analysis of the Thought" is prefixed to each, and any difficulty in the text is ex- 
plained in a note. — Guardian. 

' The most acceptable edition of this ever-popular yioxV.'—Globt. 

Leaders of Religion 

Edited by H. C. BEECHING, M.A. With Portraits, crown %vo. 

A series of short biographies of the most prominent leaders / /* 

of religious life and thought of all ages and countries. O / (^ 

The following are ready — KJl 

CARDINAL NEWMAN. By R. H. Hutton. 
JOHN WESLEY. By J. H. Overton, M.A. 
BISHOP WILBERFORCE. By G. W. Daniel, M.A. 
CARDINAL MANNING. By A. W. Hutton, M.A. 
CHARLES SIMEON. By H. C. G. MOULE, M.A. 
JOHN KEBLE. By Walter Lock, M.A, 
THOMAS CHALMERS. By Mrs. Oliphant. 
LANCELOT ANDREWES. By R. L. Ottley, M.A. '^ 



22 Messrs. Methuen's List 

augustine of canterbury. by.e. l. cutts, d.d. 

WILLIAM LAUD. By W. H. HUTl'ON, M.A. 
JOHN KNOX. By F. M'CUNN. 
JOHN HOWE. By R. F. HORTON, D.D. 
BISHOP KEN. By F. A. Clarke, M.A. 
GEORGE FOX, THE QUAKER. By T. HODGKIN, D.C.L. 
Other volumes will be announced in due course. 

Fiction 

SIX SHILLING NOVELS 

Marie Corelli's Novels 

Crown Svo. 6s, each, 
A ROMANCE OF TWO WORLDS. Fourteenth Edition. 
VENDETTA. Eleventh Edition. 
THELMA. Fourteenth Edition. 
ARDATH. Tenth Edition. 
THE SOUL OF LILITH. Ninth Edition. 
WORMWOOD. Eighth Edition. 

BARABBAS : A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY. 

Twenty-Jifth Edition. 

' The tender reverence of the treatment and the imaginative beauty of the writiiig 
have reconciled us to the daring of the conception, and the conviction is forced on 
us that even so exalted a subject cannot be uiade too familiar to us, provided it be 
presented in the true spirit of Christian faith. _ The amplifications of the Scriptup; 
narrative are often conceived with high poetic insight, and this "Dream of thr 
World's Tragedy " is, despite some trifling incongruities, a lofty and not inade 
quate paraphrase of the supreme climax of the inspired narrative.'— Z»«Wj>- 
lievic'M. 

THE SORROWS OF SATAN. Twenty-ninth Edition. 

' A very powerful piece of work. . . . The conception is magnificent, and is likely 
to win an abiding place within the memory of man. . . . The author has immense 
command of language, and a limitless audacity. . . . This interesting and re- 
markable romance will live long after much of the ephemeral literature of the day 
is forgotten. ... A literary phenomenon . . . novel, and even sublime.' — W. T. 
Stead in the Rtvieiu of Reviews. 



Messrs. Methuen's List 23 

Anthony Hope's Novels 

Crown &V0. 6j. cuck. 
THE GOD IN THE CAR. Seventh Edition. 

' A very rimairkable book, deserving of critical analysi:. inipossible within our limit ; 
brilliant, but not superficial ; well considered, but not elaborattd ; constructed 
with the proverbial art that conceals, but yet allows itself to be enjoyed by readers 
to wl.om fine literary mtithod is a keeu pleasure ; true without cynicism, subtle 
without afTectation, humorous without strain, witty without offence, inevitably 
sad, with an unmorose simplicity.'— The World. 

A CHANGE OF AIR. Fourth Edition. 

'A graceful, vivacious comedy, true to human nature. The characters arc traced 
with a masterly hand.' — Times. 

A MAN OF MARK. Third Edition. 

' Of all Mr. Hope's books, " A Man of Mark " is the ono which best compares with 
" The Prisoner of Zenda." The two romances are unmistakably tlie work of the 
same writer, and he possesses- a style ol narrative peculiarly seductive, piquant, 
comprehensive, and — his own.' — Natiottal Observr.r. 

THE CHRONICLES OF COUNT ANTONIO. Third 

Edition. 
'It is a perfectly encliaiiting story of love and chivalry, and pure romance. The 
outlawed Count is the most constant, desperate, and withal modest and tender o) 
lovers, a peerless gentlenjan, an intrepid fighter, a very faithful friend, and a most 
magnanimous foe. In short, he is an altogether admirable, lovable, and delight- 
ful hero. There is not a word in the volume that can give offence to the most 
fastidious taste of man or woman, and there is not, either, a dull paragraph in it. 
The book is everywhere instinct with th-^ most exhilarraing spirit of adventure, 
and delicately perfumed with the sentiment of all heroic and honourable deeds of 
history and romance.' — Guardian. 

S. Baring Gould's Novels 

Cr 01071 87W. 6i. each. 

'To say that a book is by the author of " Mchalah" is to imply that it contains a 
story cast on strong lines, containing dr.imatic possibilities, vivid and sympathetic 
descriptions of Nature, and a wealth of ingenious imagery.' — Speaker. 
'That whatever Mr. Baring Gould writes is well worth reading, is a conclusion that 
may be very generally accepted. His views of life art fresh and vigorous, his 
laniruage pointed and ch;iracteristic, the incidents of which he makes use are 
striking and original, his characters are life-like, and though somewhat excep- 
tional people, are drawn and coloured with artistic force. Add to this that his 
descriptions of scenes and scenery are painted with the loving eyes and skilled 
hands of a master of his art, that he is always fresh and never dull, and under 
such conditions it is no wonder that readers have gained confidence both in his 
power of amusing and .satisfying them, and that year by year his popularity 
widens.' — Court Circular. 

ARM I NELL : A Social Romance. Fourth Edition. 
URITH : A Story of Dartmoor. Fourth Edition. 

'The author is at hi* best.' — Tima. 

' He has nearly reached the hiiti vrater-mark ol " Mehalah." '— National Observer- 



24 Messrs. Methuen's List 

IN THE ROAR OF THE SEA. Fifth Edition. 

'One of the best imagined and most enthralling stories the author has produced. 
— Saturday Revieiti. 

MRS. CURGENVEN OF CURGENVEN. Fourth Edition. 

' A novel of vigorous humour and sustained power.' — Graphic. 
' The swing of the narrative is splendid.' — Sussex Daily News. 

CHEAP JACK ZITA. Third Edition. 

' A powerful drama of human passion.' — Westminster Gazette. 
'A story worthy the author.' — National Obseri^er. 

THE QUEEN OF LOVE. Fourth Edition. 

' The scenery is admirable, and the dramatic incidents are most striking.' — Glasgow 

Herald. 
' Strong, interesting, and clever.' — Westminster Gazette. 
' You cannot put it down until you have finished it.' — Punch. 
' Can be heartily recommended to all who care for cleanly, energetic, and interesting 

fiction.' — Sussex Daily News. 

KITTY ALONE. Fourth Edition. 

' A strong and original story, teeming with graphic description, stirring incident, 

and, above all, with vivid and enthralling human interest.' — Daily Telegraph. 
'Brisk, clever, keen, healthy, humorous, and interesting.' — National Observer. 
' Full of quaint and delightful studies of character.' — Bristol Mercury. 

NO^MI : A Romance of the Cave-Dwellers. Illustrated by 

R. Caton Woodville. Third Edition. 

" Noemi " is as excellent a tale of fighting and adventure as one may wish to meet. 
All the characters that interfere in this exciting tale are marked with properties 
of their own. The narrative also runs clear and sharp as the Loire itself.' — 
Pall Mall Gazette. 
' Mr. Baring Gould's powerful story is full of the strong lights and shadows and 
vivid colouring to which he has accustomed us.' — Standard. 

THE BROOM-SQUIRE. Illustrated by Frank Dadd. 
Third Edition. 

' A strain of tenderness is woven through the web of his tragic tale, and its atmosphere 
is sweetened by the nobility and sweetness of the heroine's character.' — Daily News. 

'A story of exceptional interest that seems to us to be better than anything he has 
written of late.' — Speaker. ' A powerful and striking story.' — Guardian. 

'A powerful piece of work.' — Black and White. 



Gilbert Parker's Novels 

Crown Zvo. 6s. each. 
PIERRE AND HIS PEOPLE. Third Edition. 

' Stories happily conceived and finely exectited. There is strength and genius io Mr. 
Parker s %tj\e.'— Daily Telegraph. 



Messrs Methuen's List 25 

MRS. FALCHION. Third Edition. 

' A splendid study of character.' — AtheniEunt. 

* But little behind anything that has been done by any writer of our time.' — Pall 

Mall Gazette. 
'A very striking and admirable novel.' — St. James's Gazette. 

THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE. 

'The plot is original and one difficult to work out ; but Mr. Parker has done it with 
great skill and delicacy. The reader who is not interested in this original, fresh, 
and well-told tale must be a dull person indeed.' — Daily Chronicle. 

' A strong and successful piece of workmanship. The portrait of Lali, strong, 
dignified, and pure, is exceptionally well drawn. ' — Manchester Guardian. 

THE TRAIL OF THE SWORD. Fourik Edition. 

' Everj'body with a soul for romance will thoroughly enjoy "The Trail of the 
Sword." ' — St. James's Gazette. 

' A rousing and dramatic tale. A book like this, in which swords flash, great sur- 
prises are undertaken, and daring deeds done, in which men and women live and 
love in the old straightforward passionate way, is a joy inexpressible to the re- 
viewer, brain-weary of the domestic tragedies and psychological puzzles of every- 
day fiction ; and we cannot but believe that to the reader it will bring refreshment 
as welcome and as keen.' — Daily Chronicle. 

WHEN VALMOND CAME TO PONTIAC : The Story of 

a Lost Napoleon. Third Edition. 

' Here we find romance — real, breathing, living romance, but it runs flush with our 
own times, level with our own feelings. Not here can we complain of lack of 
inevitableness or homogeneity. The character of Valmond is drawn unerringly ; 
his career, brief as it is, is placed before us as convincingly as history itself. The 
book must be read, we may say re-read, for any one thoroughly to appreciate 
Mr. Parker's delicate touch and innate sympathy with humanity.' — Pall Mall 
Gazette. 
'The one work of genius which 1895 has as yet produced.' — New Age. 

AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH: The Last Adven- 
tures of ' Pretty Pierre.' 

'The present book is full of fine and moving stories of the great North, and it will 
add to Mr. Parker's already high reputation.' — Glasgow Herald. 

' The new book is very romantic and very entertaining — full of that peculiarly 
elegant spirit of adventure which is so characteristic of Mr. Parker, and of that 
poetic thrill which has given him warmer, if less numerous, admirers than even 
his romantic story-telling gift has done.' — Si-etch. 

THE SEATS OF THE MIGHTY. Illustrated. Fourth 
Edition. 

' The best thing he has done ; one of the best things that any one has done lately.' — 
St. James's Gazette. 

' Mr. Parker seems to become stronger and easier with every serious novel that he 
attempts. . . . In " The Seats of the Mighty " he shows the matured power which 
his former novels have led us to expect, and has produced a really fine historical 
novel. . . . The great creation of the book is Doltaire. . . . His character is 
drawn with quite masterly strokes, for he is a villain who is not altogether a villain, 
and who attracts the reader, as he did the other characters, by the extraordinary 
brilliance of his gifts, and by the almost unconscious acts of nobility which he 
performs. . . . Klost sincerely is Mr. Parker to be congratulated on the finest 
novel he has yet written.' — Athenaum. 



26 Messrs. Methuen's List 

'Mr. Parker's latest book places him in the front rank of living novelists. "The 
Seats of the Mighty" is a great book." — Black and White. 

' One of the strongest stories of historical interest and adventure that we have read 
for many a day. . . . Through all Mr. Parker moves with an assured step, whilst 
in his treatment of his subject there is that happy blending of the poetical with the 
prosaic which has characterised all his writings. A notable and successful book.' 
— Speaker. 

' The story is very finely and dramatically told. ... In none of his books has his 
imaginative faculty appeared to such splendid purpose as here. Captain Moray, 
Alixe, Gabord, Vauban — above all, Doltaire — and, indeed, every person who takes 
part in the action of the story are clearly conceived and finely drawn and indivi- 
dualised. — Scotsman. 

' An admirable romance. The glory of a romance is its plot, and this plot is crowded 
with fine sensations, which have no rest until the fall of the famous old city and 
the final restitution oi\o\c.'— Pall Mall Gazette. 

Conan Doyle. ROUND THE RED LAMP. By A. Conan 
Doyle, Author of 'The White Company,' 'The Adventures of 
Sherlock Holmes,' etc. Fourth Edition. Crown Svo. 6s. 
' The book is, indeed, composed of leaves from life, and is far and away the best view 
that has been vouchsafed us behind the scenes of the consulting-room. It is very 
superior to " The Diary of a late Physician." ' — Illustrated London News. 

Stanley Weyman. UNDER THE RED ROBE. By Stanley 
Weyman, Author of ' A Gentleman of France.' With Twelve Illus- 
trations by R. Caton Woodville. Eighth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 

'A book of which we have read every word for the sheer pleasure of reading, and 
which we put down with a pang that we cannot forget it all and start again.' — 
Westminster Gazette. 

' Every one who reads books at all must read this thrilling romance, from the first 
page of which to the last the breathless reader is haled along. An inspiration of 
"manliness and courage." — Daily Chronicle. 

'A delightful tale of chivalry and adventure, vivid and dramatic, with a wholesome 

> modesty and reverence for the highest.' — Globe. 

Mrs. Clifford. A FLASH OF SUMMER. By Mrs. W. KL 
Clifford, Author of ' Aunt Anne,' etc. Second Edition. Crown 

2>vo. 6s. 

' The story is a very sad and a very beautiful one, exquisitely told, and enriched with 
many subtle touches of wise and tender insight. It will, undoubtedly, add to its 
author's reputation— already high— in the ranks of noveWsls.' —Speaker. 

' We must congratulate Mrs. Clifford upon a very successful and interesting storj', 
told throughout with finish and a delicate sense of proportion, qualities which, 
indeed, have always distinguished the best work of this very able writer.'— 
Manchester Guardian. 

Emily Lawless. HURRISH. By the Honble. Emily Law- 
less, Author of ' Maelcho,' etc. Fifth Edition. Crown Svo. 6s. 
A reissue of Miss Lawless' most popular novel, uniform with ' Maelcho.' 

Emily Lawless. MAELCHO : a Sixteenth Century Romance. 
By the Honble. Emily Lawless, Author of 'Crania,' 'Hurrish,' 
etc. Second Edition. Crown Svo. 6s. 

' A really great book.'— Spectator. 

'There is no keener pleasure in life than the recognition of genius. Good work is 
commoner than it used to be, but the best is as rare as ever. All the more 
gladly, therefore, do we welcome in " Maelcho " a piece of work of the first order, 
which we do not hesitate to describe as one of the most remarkable literary 
achievements of this generation. Miss Lawless is possessed of the very essence 
of historical geniui.'— Manchester Guard/an. 



Messrs. Methuen's List 27 

J. H. Findlater. THE GREEN GRAVES OF BALGOWRIE. 
By Jane PI, FiNDLATER. Third Edition. CrcnvtiZvo. 6s. 

'A powerful and vivid sXOTy. '—Standard. 

' A beautiful story, sad and strange as truth itself.' — Vanity Fair. 

' A work of remarkable interest and originality." — National Observer. 

' A really original novel.' — Journal cf Education. 

'A very charming and pathetic tale.' — Pail Mall Gazette. 

' A singularly original, clever, and beautiful story.' — Guardian. 

' " The Green Graves of Balgowrie " reveals to us a new Scotch writer of undoubted 

faculty and reserve force.' — Spectator. 
' An exquisite idyll, delicate, affecting, and beautiful.' — Black and White. 
' Permeated with high and noble purpose. It is one of the most wholesome stories 

we have met with, and cannot fail to leave a deep and lasting impression.' — 

JVe^vsa^ent. 

E. F. Benson. DODO : A DETAIL OF THE DAY. By E. F. 

Benson. Sixteenth Edition. Cro^vn 8vo. 6s. 
' A delightfully witty sketch of society.' — Spectator. 
' A perpetual feast of epigram and paradox.' — Speaker. 
' By a writer of quite exceptional ability.' — Athenceum. 
' Brilliantly written.' — World. 

E. F. Benson. THE RUBICON. By E. F. Benson, Author of 

' Dodo.' Fifth Edition. Crown 2>vo. 6s. 
' Well written, stimulating, unconventional, and, in a word, characteristic' — 

Birnti'ighant Post, 
' An exceptional achievement ; a notable advance on his previous work." — National 

Observer. 

M. M. Dowie. GALLIA. By Mitt:NiE Muriel Dowie, Author 
of 'A Girl in the Carpathians.' Third Edition. Crown 2>vo. 6s. 

'The style is generally admirable, the dialogue not seldom brilliant, the situations 
surprising in their freshness and originality, while the subsidiary as well as the 
principal characters live and move, and the story itself is readable from title-page 
to colophon.' — Saturday Review. 

' A very notable book ; a very sympathetically, at times delightfully written book. 
— Daily Graphic, 

Mrs, Oliphant. SIR ROBERT'S FORTUNE. By Mrs. 
Oliphant. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
'Full of her own peculiar charm of style and simple, subtle character-painting comes 
her new gift, the delightful story before us. The scene mostly lies in the moors, 
and at the touch of the authoress a Scotch moor becomes a living thing, strong, 
tender, beautiful, and changeful.' — Pall Mall Gazette. 

Idrs. Oliphant. THE TWO MARYS. By Mrs. Oliphant. 
Second Edition. Crown Svo. 6s. 

W.E.Norris. MATTHEW AUSTIN. By W. E. Norris, Author 
of ' Mademoisdle de Mersac,' etc. Eoitrlh Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. 
' "Matthew Austii ' may safely be pronounced one of the most intellectually satis- 
factory and morilly bracing novels of the current year.' — Daily Telegraph. 

W. E. Norris. HIS GRACE. By W. E. Norris. T/iini 

Edition. Crown %vo. 6s. 
' Mr. Norris has drawn a really fine character in the Duke of Hurstbourne, at once 
unconventional and very true to the conventionalities of life, weak and strong in 
a breath, capable of inane follies and heroic decisions, yet not so definitely por- 
trayed as to relieve a reader of the necessity of study.' — Athenavni. 



28 Messrs. Methuen's List 

W. E. Norris. THE DESPOTIC LADY AND OTHERS. 

By W. E. Norris. Crown 2,vo. 6s. 

' A budget of good fiction of which no one will tire.' — Scotsman. 
' An extremely entertaining volume— the sprightliest of holiday companions. '-t; 
Daily TeUgrajih. 

H. G. Wells. THE STOLEN BACILLUS, and other Stories. 
By H. G. Wells, Author of 'The Time Machine.' "" Cr<?«/« 
%vo. 6s. 

' The ordinary reader of fiction may be glad to know that these stones are eminently 
readable from one cover to the other, but they are more than that ; they are the 
impressions of a very striking imagination, which, it would seem, has a great deal 
within its reach.' — Saturday Revieiv. 

Arthur Morrison. TALES OF MEAN STREETS. By Arthur 

Morrison. Fourth Edition. Crown %vo. 6s. 
' Told with consummate art and extraordinary detail. He tells a plain, unvarnished 

tale, and the very truth of it makes for beauty. In the true humanity of the book 

lies its justification, the permanence of its interest, and its indubitable triumph.'— 

A thencrutn. 
'A great book. The author's method is amazingly efl^ective, and produces a thrilling 

sense of reality. The writer lays upon us a master hand. "The book is simply 

appalling and irresistible in its interest. It is humorous also ; without humour 

it would not make the mark it is certain to make.' — World. 

J. Maclaren Cobban. THE KING OF ANDAMAN : A 
Saviour of Society. By J. Maclaren Cobban, Author of ' The 
Red Sultan,' etc. Crown Svo. 6s. 

' An unquestionably interesting book. It would not surprise us if it turns out to be 
the most interesting novel of the season, for it contains one character, at least, 
who has in him the root of immortality, and the book itself is ever exhaling the 
sweet savour of the unexpected. . . . Plot is forgotten and incident fades, and 
only the really human endures, and throughout this book there stands out in bold 
and beautiful relief its high-souled and chivalric protagonist, James the Master 
of Hutcheon, the King of Andaman himself.' — Pall Mall Gazette. 

'A most original and refreshing story. James Hutcheon is a personage whom it is 
good to know and impossible to forget. He is beautiful within and without, 
whichever way we take him.' — Spectator. 

' "The King of Andaman," is a book which does credit not less to the heart than 
the head of its author.' — Athetueutn. 

' The fact that Her Majesty the Queen has been pleased to gracefully express to the 
author of " The King of Andaman" her interest in his work will doubtless find 
for it many readers.' — Vanity Fair. 

H. Morrah. A SERIOUS COMEDY. By Herbert Morrah. 
Crown 8vo. 6s. 

'There are many delightful places in this volume, which is well worthy of its title. 
The theme has seldom been presented with more freshness or more force.'— 
Scotstnan. 

L. B. Walford. SUCCESSORS TO THE TITLE. By Mrs. 
Walford, Author of ' Mr. Smith,' etc. Second Edition. Crown 
8vo. 6s. 

' The story is fresh and healthy from beginning to finish ; and our liking for the two 
simple people who are the successors to the title mounts steadily, and ends almost 
in respect.' — Scotsman. ' 

' The book is quite worthy to be rankea with many clever predecessors. It is ex- 
cellent reading.' — Glasgow Herald. 



Messrs. Methuen's List 29 

T. L^. Paton; A HOME IN INVERESK. By T. L. Paton. 

. Crown Svo. 6s. 
i' A distinctly fresh and fascinating novel.' — Montrose Standard. 
, 'A book which bears marks of considerable promise.' — Scotsman. 
' A pleasant and well-written story.' — Daily Chronicle. 

John Davidson. MISS ARMSTRONG'S AND OTHER CIR- 
CUMSTANCES. By John Davidson. Crown Svo. 6s. 

^'Throughout the volume there is a strong vein of originality, a strength in the 
^ handling, and a knowledge of human nature that are worthy of the highest praise.' 
r — Scotsman. 

J. B. Burton. IN THE DAY OF ADVERSITY. By J. 
" Bloundelle Burton, Author of 'The Hispaniola Plate,' etc. 
, f Crown Svo. 6s. 

' Unusually interesting and full of highly dramatic situations.' — Guardian. 
' A well-written story, drawn from that inexhaustible mine, the time of Louis XIV. 
. , —Pall Mall Gazette. 

H. 'Johnston. DR. CONGALTON'S LEGACY. By Henry 
'Johnston. Crotvn Svo. 6s. 

' The story is redolent of humour, pathos, and tenderness, while it is not without a 

touch of tragedy.' — Scotsman. 
' A worthy and permanent contribution to Scottish creative literature.' — Glasgow 

Herald. 

Julian Corbett. A BUSINESS IN GREAT WATERS. By 
Julian Corbett, Author of ' For God and Gold,' ' Kophetua 
Xlllth.,' etc. Crmvn Svo. 6s. 
' In this stirring story Mr. Julian Corbett has done excellent work, welcome alike 
for its distinctly literary flavour, and for the wholesome tone which pervades it. 
Mr. Corbett writes with immense spirit, and the book is a thoroughly enjoyable 
one in all respects. The salt of the ocean is in it, and the right heroic ring re- 
sounds through its gallant adventures.' — Speaker. 

C. Phillips Woolley. THE QUEENSBERRY CUP. A Tale 
of Adventure. By Clive Phillips Woolley, Author of * Snap,' 
Editor of ' Big Game Shooting.' Illustrated. Crown Svo. 6s. 

' A book which will delight boys: a book which upholds the healthy schoolboy code 

of morality.' — t :otsman. 
' A brilliant book. Dick St. Clair, of Caithness, is an almost ideal character — a com- 
bination of the mediaeval knight and the modern pugilist.' — Adtniralty and Horse- 
guards Gazette. 

Robert Barr. IN THE MIDST OF ALARMS. By Robert 

Barr, Author of ' From Whose Bourne,' etc. Third Edition. 

Crown Svo. 6s. 

' A book which has abundantly satisfied us by its capital humour.' — Daily Chronicle. 
' Mr. Barr has achieved a triumph whereof he has every reason to be proud.' — Pall 
Mall Gazette. 

L. Baintrey. THE KING OF ALBERIA. A Romance of 
the Balkans. By Laura Daintrey. Crown Svo. 6s. 

' Miss Daintrey seems to have an intimate acquaintance with the people and politics 
of the Balkan countries in which the scene of her lively and picturesque romance 
is laid. On almost every page we find clever touches of local colour which dif- 
ferentiate her book unmistakably from the ordinary novel of commerce. The 
Story is briskly told, and well conceived,' — Glasgow Herald. 



30 ' Messrs. Metiiuen's List 

Mrs. Pinsent. CHILDREN OF THIS WORLD. By Ellen 
F. Pinsent, Author of 'Jenny's Case.' Crown ?,vo. 6s. 

' Mrs. Pinsent's new novel has plenty of vigour, variety, and good writing. There 
are certainty of purpose, strength of touch, and clearness of vision.' — Athenctutn. 

Claxk Russell. MY DANISH SWEETHEART. By W. 
Clark Russell, Author of ' The Wreck of the Grosvenor,' etc. 
Illustrated. Fourth Edition. Crown ?ivo. 6s. 

G. Manville Fenn. AN ELECTRIC SPARK. By G. Manville 
Fenn, Author of ' The Vicar's Wife,' ' A Double Knot,' etc. Second 
Edition. Crown Svo. 6s, 
'A simple and wholesome story.' — Manchester Guardian. 

R. Pryce. TIME AND THE WOMAN. By Richard Pryce, 
Author of ' Miss Maxwell's Affections,' 'The Quiet Mrs. Fleming,' 
etc. Second Edition, Crown Svo. 6s. 
' Mr. Pryce's work recalls the style of Octave Feuillet, by its clearness, conciseness, 
its literary reserve.' — Atkenaum. 

Mrs. Watson. THIS MAN'S DOMINION. By the Author 
of ' A High Little World.' Second Edition. Crown Zvo. 6s. 

Marriott Watson. DIOGENES OF LONDON and other 
Sketches. By H. B. Marriott Watson, Author of ' The Web 
of the Spider.' Crown Svo. Buckram. 6s. 
' By all those who delight in the uses of words, who rate the exercise of prose above 
the exercise of verse, who rejoice in all proofs of its delicacy and its strength, who 
believe that English prose is chief among the moulds of thought, by these 
Mr. Marriott Watson's book will be welcomed.' — National Observer. 

M. Gilchrist. THE STONE DRAGON. By Murray Gil- 
christ. Crown Svo. Buckram. 6s. 

' The author'; faults are atoned for by certain positive and admirable merits. The 
romances have not their counterpart in modem literature, and to read them is a 
unique experience.' — National Observer. 

E. Dickinson. A VICAR'S WIFE. By Evelyn Dickinson. 

Crown Svo. 6s. 
E. M. Gray. ELSA. By E. M'Queen Gray. Croivn Zvo. bs. 



THREE-AND-SIXPENNY NOVELS 

Crown Svo. 

DERRICK VAUGHAN, NOVELIST. By Edna Lyall, 

MARGERY OF QUETHER. By S. Baring Gould. 

JACQUETTA. By S. Baring Gould. 

SUBJECT TO VANITY. By Margaret Benson. 

THE MOVING FINGER. By Mary Gaunt. 

JACO TRELOAR. By J. H. Pearce. 



3/6 



Messrs. Methuen's List 31 

aut diabolus aut nihil. by x. l. 

THE COiMING OF CUCULAIN. A Romance of the Heroic 
Age of Ireland. By Standish O'Grady. Illustrated. 

THE GODS GIVE MY DONKEY WINGS. By Angus 
Evan Abbott. 

THE STAR GAZERS. By G. M.^nville Fenn. 

THE POISON OF ASPS. By R. Orton Prowse. 

THE QUIET MRS. FLEMING. By R. Pryce. 

THE PLAN OF CAMPAIGN. By F. Mabel Robinson. 

DISENCHANTMENT. By F. Mabel Robinson. 

MR. BUTLER'S WARD. By F. Mabel Robinson. 

A LOST ILLUSION. By Leslie Keith. 

A REVEREND GENTLEMAN. By J. M. Cobban. 

A DEPLORABLE AFFAIR. By W. E. NORRIS. 

A CAVALIER'S LADYE. By Mrs. Dicker. 



2/6 



HALF-CROWN NOVELS 

A Series of Novels by popular Authors. 

1. HOVENDEN, V.C. By F. Mabel Robinson. 

2. ELI'S CHILDREN. By G. Manville Fenn. 

3. A DOUBLE KNOT. By G. Manville Fenn. 

4. DISARMED. By M. Betham Edwards. 

5. A MARRIAGE AT SEA. By W. Clark Russell. 

6. IN TENT AND BUNGALOW. By the Author of ' Indian 

Idylls.' 

7. MY STEWARDSHIP. By E. M'Queen Gray. 

8. JACK'S FATHER. By W. E. NORRIS. 

9. JIM B. 

Lynn Linton. THE TRUE HISTORY OF JOSHUA DAVID- 
SON, Christian and Communist, by E. Lynn LiNTON. Eleventh 
Edition. Post 8vo. is. 



Books for Boys and Girls "llf) 

A Series 0/ Boohs by well-known Authors, well illustrated. *^/ 

THE ICELANDER'S SWORD. By S. Baring Gould. 
TWO LITTLE CHILDREN AND CHING. By Edith 

E. CUTHELL. 



32 Messrs. Methuen's List 

3. TODDLEBEN'S HERO. By M. M. Blake. 

4. ONLY A GUARD ROOM DOG. By Edith E. Cuthell. 

5. THE DOCTOR OF THE JULIET. By Harry Colling- 

WOOD. 

6. MASTER ROCKAFELLAR'S VOYAGE. By W. Clark 

Russell. 

7. SYD BELTON : Or, The Boy who would not go to Sea. 

By G. Manville Fenn. 



The Peacock Lib 



rary 



3/6 



A Series of Books for Girls by well-known Authors, 
handsomely bound in blue and silver, and well illustrated. 

1. A PINCH OF EXPERIENCE. By L. B. Walford. 

2. THE RED GRANGE. By Mrs. MOLESWORTH. 

3. THE SECRET OF MADAME DE MONLUC. By the 

Author of ' Mdle Mori.' 

4. DUMPS. By Mrs. Parr, Author of 'Adam and Eve.' 

5. OUT OF THE FASHION. By L. T. Meade. 

6. A GIRL OF THE PEOPLE. By L. T. Meade. 

7. HEPSY GIPSY. By L. T. Meade. 2s. 6d. 

8. THE HONOURABLE MISS. By L. T. Meade. 

9. MY LAND OF BEULAH. By Mrs. Leith Adams. 

University Extension Series 

A series of books on historical, literary, and scientific subjects, suitable 
for extension students and home-reading circles. Each volume is com- 
plete in itself, and the subjects are treated by competent writers in a 
broad and philosophic spirit. 

Edited by J. E. SYMES, M.A., 

Principal of University College, Nottingham. 

Crown Svo. Price (with some exceptions) zs. 6d. 

The following volumes are ready : — 

THE INDUSTRIAL HISTORY OF ENGLAND. By H. DE 
B. GiBBlNS, M.A., late Scholar of Wadham College, Oxon., Cobden 
Prizeman. Fourth Edition. With Maps and Flans. 35. 

'A compact and clear story of our ndustrial development. A study of this concise 
but luminous book cannot fail to give the reader a clear insight into the principal 
phenomena of our industrial historj;. The editor and publishers are to be congrat- 
ulated on this first volume of their venture, and we shall look with expectant 
interest for the succeeding volumes of the series.' — University Extension Journal. 



Messrs. Methuen's List 33 

A HISTORY OF ENGLISH POLITICAL ECONOMY. By 
L. L. Price, M.A., Fellow of Oriel College, Oxon. Second Edition. 

PROBLEMS OF POVERTY : An Inquiry into the Industrial 
Conditions of the Poor. By J. A. Hobson, M.A. Third Edition. 

VICTORIAN POETS. By A. Sharp. 

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. By J. E. Symes, M.A. 

PSYCHOLOGY. By F. S. Granger, M.A., Lecturer in Philo- 
sophy at University College, Nottingham. 

THE EVOLUTION OF PLANT LIFE : Lower Forms. By 
C_ G. Massee, Kew Gardens. With Illustrations. 

^-^AIR AND WATER. Professor V. B. Lewes, M.A. Illustrated. 

THE CHEMISTRY OF LIFE AND HEALTH. By C. \V. 
KiMMlNS, M.A. Camb. Illustrated. 

THE MECHANICS OF DAILY LIFE. By V. P. Sells, M.A. 
Illustrated. 

ENGLISH SOCIAL REFORMERS. H. de B. Gibbins, M.A. 

ENGLISH TRADE AND FINANCE IN THE SEVEN- 
TEENTH CENTURY. By W. A. S. Hewins, B.A. 

THE CHEMISTRY OF FIRE. The Elementary Principles of 
Chemistry. By M. M. Pattison MuiR, M.A. Illustrated. 

A TEXT-BOOK OF AGRICULTURAL BOTANY. By M. C. 
Potter, M.A., F.L.S. Illustrated. 3^. dd. 

THE VAULT OF HEAVEN. A Popular Introduction to 
Astronomy. By R. A. Gregory. With numerous Illustrations. 

METEOROLOGY. The Elements of Weather and Climate. 
By H. N. Dickson, F.R.S.E., F.R. Met. Soc. Illustrated. 

A MANUAL OF ELECTRICAL SCIENCE. By George 
J. BURCH, M.A. With numerous Illustrations, y. 

THE EARTH. An Introduction to Physiography. By Evan 
Small, M.A. Illustrated. 

INSECT LIFE. By F. W. Theobald, M.A. Illustrated. 

ENGLISH POETRY FROM BLAKE TO BROWNING. By 

W. M. DixoN, M.A. 
ENGLISH LOCAL GOVERNMENT. By E. Jenks, M.A., 

Professor of Law at University College, Liverpool. 



34 Messrs. Metiiuen's List 

Social Questions of To-day- 
Edited by H. DE B. GIBBINS, M.A. 

Crown Zvo. 2s. 6d. 
A series of volumes upon those topics of social, economic, 
and industrial interest that are at the present moment fore- 
most in the public mind. Each volume of the series is written by an 
author who is an acknowledged authority upon the subject with which 
he deals. 



2/6 



The following Volumes of the Series are ready : — 

TRADE UNIONISM— NEW AND OLD. By G. Howell, 
Author of ' The Conflicts of Capital and Labour.' Second Edition. 

THE CO-OPERATIVE MOVEMENT TO-DAY. By G. J. 
HoLYOAKE, Author of 'The History of Co-operation.' Second 

Edition. 

MUTUAL THRIFT. By Rev. J. Frome Wilkinson, M.A., 
Author of ' The Friendly Society Movement.' 

PROBLEMS OF POVERTY : An Inquiry into the Industrial 

Conditions of the Poor. By J. A. HoBSON, M.A. Third Edition. 

THE COMMERCE OF NATIONS. By C. F. Bastable, 

M.A., Professor of Economics at Trinity College, Dublin. 

THE ALIEN INVASION. By W. H. Wilkins, B.A., Secretary 

to the Society for Preventing the Immigration of Destitute Aliens. 

THE RURAL EXODUS. By P. Anderson Graham. 
LAND NATIONALIZATION. By Harold Cox, B.A. 

A SHORTER WORKING DAY. By H. DE B. Gibbins 

and R. A. Hadfield, of the Hecla Works, Sheffield. 

BACK TO THE LAND : An Inquiry into the Cure for Rural 
Depopulation. By H. E. Moore. 

TRUSTS, POOLS AND CORNERS : As affecting Commerce 
and Industry. By J. STEPHEN Jeans, M.R.L, F.S.S. 

THE FACTORY SYSTEM. By R. Cooke Taylor. 

THE STATE AND ITS CHILDREN. By Gertrude 

Tuckwell. 

WOMEN'S WORK. By Lady Dilke, Miss Bulley, and 
Miss Whitley. 



Messrs. Methuen's List 35 

MUNICIPALITIES AT WORK. The Municipal Policy of 
Six Great Towns, and its Influence on their Social Welfare. By 
Frederick Dolman. 

SOCIALISM AND MODERN THOUGHT. By M. Kauf- 
man n. 

THE HOUSING OF THE WORKING CLASSES. By R. 

F. BOWMAKER. 

MODERN CIVILISATION IN SOME OF ITS ECONOMIC 
ASPECTS. By W. Cunningham, D.D., Fellow of Trinity College, 
Cambridge. 

Classical Translations 

Edited by H. F. FOX, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Brasenose 
College, Oxford. 

Messrs. Methuen are issuing a New Series of Translations from the 
Greek and Latin Classics. They have enlisted the services of some 
of the best Oxford and Cambridge Scholars, and it is their intention that 
the Series shall be distinguished by literary excellence as well as by 
scholarly accuracy. 

iESCHYLUS — Agamemnon, Choephoroe, Eumenides. Trans- 
lated by Lewis Campbell, LL.D., late Professor of Greek at St. 
Andrews. 5^. 

CICERO— De Oratore I. Translated by E. N. P. MoOR, M.A., 
Assistant Master at Clifton. 3^. bd. 

CICERO— Select Orations (Pro Milone, Pro Murena, Philippic ll., 
In Catilinam). Translated by H. E. D. Blakiston, M.A., Fellow 
and Tutor of Trinity College, Oxford. 55. 

CICERO— De Natura Deorum. Translated by F. Brooks, 
M. A., late Scholar of Balliol College, Oxford. 31. 6a'. 

LUCIAN — Six Dialogues (Nigrinus, Icaro-Menippus, The Cock, 
The Ship, The Parasite, The Lover of Falsehood). Translated by 
S. T. Irwin, M.A., Assistant Master at CUfton ; late Scholar of 
Exeter College, Oxford. 35. bd. 

SOPHOCLES— Electra and Ajax. Translated by E. D. A. 
MoRSiiEAn, M.A., late Scholar of New College, Oxford ; Assistant 
IMaster at Winchester. 2s. 6d. 

TACITUS— Agricola and Germania. Translated by R. B. 
TowNSHEND, late Scholar of Trinity College, Cambridge, zs. 6d. 



-^ 



36 Messrs. Methuen's List 

Educational Books 

CLASSICAL 
TACITI AGRICOLA. With Introduction, Notes, Map, etc. 
By R. F. Davis, M.A., Assistant Master at Weymouth College. 
Crown 2>vo. 2s. 

TACITI GERMANIA. By the same Editor. Crown 2>vo. 2s. 

HERODOTUS: EASY SELECTIONS. With Vocabulary. 
By A. C. LiDDELL, M.A., Assistant Master at Nottingham High 
School. Fcap. 8vo. is. 6d. 

SELECTIONS FROM THE ODYSSEY. By E. D. Stone, 
M.A., late Assistant Master at Eton. Fcap. 8z)o. is. 6d. 

PLAUTUS : THE CAPTIVI. Adapted for Lower Forms by 
J. H. Freese, M. A., late Fellow of St. John's, Cambridge. is. 6d. 

DEMOSTHENES AGAINST CONON AND CALLICLES. 
Edited with Notes, and Vocabulary, by F. Darwin Swift, M.A., 
formerly Scholar of Queen's College, Oxford ; Assistant Master at 
Denstone College. Fcap. Svo. 2s. 

GERMAN 

A COMPANION GERMAN GRAMMAR. By H. de B. 

GiBBiNS, M.A., Assistant Master at Nottingham High School. 
Crown 8vo. is. 6d. 

GERMAN PASSAGES FOR UNSEEN TRANSLATION. 

By E. M 'Queen Gray. Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. 

SCIENCE 
THE WORLD OF SCIENCE. Including Chemistry, Heat, 
Light, Sound, Magnetism, Electricity, Botany, Zoology, Physiology, 
Astronomy, and Geology. By R. Elliot Steel, M.A., P'.C.S. 
147 Illustrations. Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. 

' Mr. Steel's Manual is admirable in many ways. The book is well calculated to 
attract and retain the attention of the young.' — SaUirday Review. 

' If Mr. Steel is to be placed second to any for this quality of lucidity, it is only to 
Huxley himself; and to be named in the same breath with this master of the 
craft of teaching is to be accredited with the clearness of style and simplicity of 
arrangement that belong to thorough mastery of a subject.' — Parents Review. 

ELEMENTARY LIGHT. By R. E. Steel. With numerous 
Illustrations. Crown Zvo. 4J. (>d. 



Messrs. Methuen's List 37 

ENGLISH 

ENGLISH RECORDS. A Companion to the History of 
England. By H. E. Malden, M.A. CrowjtZvo. y. 6d. 

A book which aims at concentrating information upon dates, genealogy, officials, 
constitutional documents, etc., which is usually found scattered in different 
volumes. 

THE ENGLISH CITIZEN : HIS RIGHTS AND DUTIES. 
By H. E. Malden, M.A. \s. 6d. 

' The book goes over the same ground as is traversed in the school books on this 
subject written to satisfy the requirements of the Education code. It would 
serve admirably the purposes of a text-book, as it is well based in historical 
facts, and keeps quite clear of party matters.' — Scotsjnan. 

METHUEN'S COMMERCIAL SERIES. 

Edited by H. de E. GIBBINS, M.A. 

BRITISH COMMERCE AND COLONIES FROM ELIZA- 
BETH TO VICTORIA. By H. de B. Gibbins, M.A., Author of 
'The Industrial History of England,' etc. etc. 2s. 

COMMERCIAL EXAMINATION PAPERS. By H. de B. 
Gibbins, M.A. i^. 6d. 

THE ECONOMICS OF COMMERCE. By H. de B. Gibbins, 
M.A. i^. 6d. 

A MANUAL OF FRENCH COMMERCIAL CORRE- 
SPONDENCE. By S. E. Bally, Modern Language Master at 
the Manchester Grammar School. 2s. 

A FRENCH COMMERCIAL READER. By S. E. Bally. 

2S. 

COMMERCIAL GEOGRAPHY, with special reference to Trade 
Routes, New Markets, and Manufacturing Districts. By L. W. Lyde, 
M.A., of the Academy, Glasgow. 2s. 

A PRIMER OF BUSINESS. By S. Jackson, ]\I. A. is. (3d. 

COMMERCIAL ARITHMETIC. By F. G. Taylor, 
M.A. 15. 6d. 



38 Messrs. Methuen's List 

works by a. m. m. stedman, m.a. 

INITIA LATINA : Easy Lessons on Elementary Accidence. 

Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo. is. 

FIRST LATIN LESSONS. Fourth Edition. CrownZvo. 2s. 

FIRST LATIN READER. With Notes adapted to the 
Shorter Latin Primer and Vocabulary. Second Edition. Crown Zvo. 
IS. 6d. 

EASY SELECTIONS FROM CAESAR. Part I. The Hel- 
vetian War. iZtno. is. 

EASY SELECTIONS FROM LIVY. Part I. The Kings of 
Rome. l?>mo. is. 6d. 

EASY LATIN PASSAGES FOR UNSEEN TRANSLA- 
TION. Third Edition. Fcap. Svo. is. (td. 

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